Mad World
by little rosebud
Summary: I don't know how or when it happened, but against my better judgment, someone managed to crawl under my skin, to heal old wounds that never truly closed. That person is the last one I thought could ever care about me to that extent. He came into my life and changed everything, forced me to change along with it. Warnings for non-consensual situations, eventual RickxDaryl
1. I want to drown my sorrow

**A/N: **Hi everyone!

This is my first Walking Dead fic! Don't be too hard on me... ^^

I'm totally in love with Daryl Dixon, and find him so complex and interesting. I had to write something about him! :)

I'll keep it short, since there's going to be author's notes at the end of the chapter too.

I don't own the characters and I don't make money with this fic.

This fiction contains many warnings; warnings for rape, pedophilia, incest, use of drugs, strong language, cussing, and homosexual intercourse. You've been warned! If this bothers you, I kindly suggest that you go back from where you came. ^^

Also, there are spoilers in this fic up to episode 3x06: Hounded. The storyline of this fic will stop being canon from that point on.

That's about it! Have fun reading!

* * *

**Mad World**

**Chapter 1: I want to drown my sorrow**

* * *

_All around me are familiar faces_

_Worn out places, worn out faces_

_Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow_

_No tomorrow, no tomorrow_

_And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad_

_The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I ever had_

_Gary Jules - Mad World_

* * *

People talk about the end of the world all the time. It's been announced an insane amount of time, and yet, we always pulled through without it happening. But right now... right now it's the real deal.

It's not some crazy shit like earthquakes, tsunamis and such. No, it's much worse. The dead has risen and is devouring the living, and it was so sudden that no one was prepared for it. People get killed by their loved ones, and they come back as rotten corpses hunting for living preys. Everyone's panicking, is getting lost in this new, harsh world that they are unable to fit in.

I'm an exception. Sure, I panicked at first too, but I quickly overcame that fear and used it to survive. I'm lucky to have skills in that area too. Growing up, I had to learn to adapt quickly to any situation, and it proved quite useful in this apocalyptic world.

In my thirty-two years of life, I've seen and experienced things far more horrible than the walkers. People would laugh if I'd tell them that. Nobody understands me; no one understands what I've had to go through since I was a little kid, what kind of life I lived. They don't understand that human beings can be far more cruel and scary than dead people walking around mindlessly.

Nobody understands Daryl Dixon, nor do they _want _to understand me. I have to admit I'm not helping. I spent my whole life deliberately isolating myself from others. I don't want people to see how ugly I am inside, how worthless. _Undeserving _of love and attention. And that's fine with me. If I don't let anyone in, then I won't get hurt again. Loneliness is better than pain. I had my share of pain for a lifetime.

But things never go as I want, don't they?

I don't know how it happened, I don't even know _when _it happened, but against my better judgment, someone managed to crawl under my skin, to heal the old wounds that never closed. That person is the last one I thought would bother to do it, or would even care about me to that extent.

Rick Grimes. He came into my life and changed everything, forced me to change along with it.

* * *

Rick doesn't know everything about me, just like everybody else. I never told anyone this. I doubt even my brother Merle knows everything I went through growing up. He was far too busy being away from home getting drunk, high, doing some time in juvie, or constantly out somewhere to bang some sluts to care about what happened to me.

No, I'm sure Merle doesn't know everything. And even if he did know, there wouldn't have been a lot he could have done to stop it. I wouldn't have wanted his help, anyway. If I'm sure of one thing, it's that I'd rather die than beg for help. I always had to strive for myself and the last shred of pride that hadn't been robbed from me made sure of that.

I didn't get to know my mother very long. I was six years old when she died in a fire, found in her own bed. After she died, it was just me, my brother and my father growing up. Well, I should say just me and my old man, really.

Like I said, Merle was more often out doing God knows what shit than at home. I understood soon enough why he avoided being home most of the time. My old man was not the perfect father. He was drunk almost every day. He had no job, and it took me many years to understand how he was making money to keep the house – no matter how old and rundown it was – and his old truck.

My old man was head deep into the drugs and prostitution market.

Sometimes, my dad was gone for a couple of days and I was left on my own. I had to learn to take care of myself when I was no older than six years old, right after my mom died. I always managed to pull through, even if I usually spent these days hungry, thirsty and dirty. Despite that, I still preferred it when my old man was gone because that meant I had peace and the illusion of safety for a couple of days.

Because my dad was violent, always had been. He didn't hit Merle, though. I suspect he did once, but my brother was quick to toughen up and strike back. Surely it wasn't alluring as much to hit someone who can defend himself. I didn't have the guts to do it, so my father kept the hits coming.

He was even worse when he was drunk. He'd get home late and stumble into my room. He'd yell at me about things I didn't do and slap me hard across the face before beating me up with his fists. The nights that he was really pissed off, he even went as far as using his belt to whip my back again and again, until my skin was raw and bleeding.

Sometimes, he'd hit me so hard I'd pass out. When I was seven years old, I stopped crying whenever he hit me as I realized it was only urging him on to hit me more.

Other times, he'd break bones without intending to. I remember that time he broke a couple of my ribs by kicking me too hard in the side. He had brought me to a hospital to have me treated and the doctor didn't even ask questions about how it happened. He had patched me up and sent me on my merry way back home with my abusive father.

That's the thing. Everyone in our village in Georgia knew what my old man was doing to his kids. Everyone knew he was an abusing father and no one wanted to lift a single finger to help us. We were only redneck trash, after all. All of my life, I was treated like I was dog shit. I can't say they were wrong on that point. That's what I am to the world.

I never asked why my dad did it. I just figured I'd done something to deserve his hate and anger. People talk about love. They talk about how good it is to love and be loved in return. I didn't get it. All I knew growing up, and ever knew was pain, misery, shame and contempt. I was always told by both my old man and Merle that I was nothing more than a worthless trash, and that no one would ever care about me except them. I got used to it.

After some time, it didn't hurt as much as it used to.

If my dad had only hit me, I think I could have handled my broken childhood better. But he didn't stop there. He did so much more. There was the humiliation. He often called me girly names like _Darylena _– fuck I hate that name – and constantly treated me like a girl. Sometimes, my old man cuffed me outside of the house stark naked for everyone to see and fed me as one would a dog. He even did it once in one of the harshest winters we ever had and I almost died from hypothermia before he decided to get me inside the house.

He began doing that when I was about eight years old, when I was more of age to be ashamed of being exposed in such a way. And fuck, I was. I remember thinking I'd rather my old man beat me to a bloody pulp than do that to me. So I did everything I could to make him angry and beat me up instead, but he knew why I was doing it and continued with the humiliation. He branded me as his toy in front of everyone, and I'm ashamed to say I could do nothing against that.

My dad's cruel ways got craftier and crueler the more years passed. Sometimes, he tied me to my bed for days on end, leaving me starving and weak, and shamefully obligated to stew in my own piss and feces. Fuck, I hated it with a passion when he did that. I'd rather take the pain anytime.

I tried to run away from home once too. It didn't go as I planned, though. I was nine years old. I remember that day. My old man was off on a bender with some waitress and Merle was serving time in juvie again. I was alone at home and I decided to leave while I had the chance. Since I wanted to avoid leaving the village by going through it – someone was bound to tell my old man in which direction I went – I decided to cut through the forest around the village.

I lost my way, though. Back then, I didn't have the orientation skills I have now. I got lost for nine days, eating berries, building a small fire in the nights and trying to survive there. I eventually found my way back home and made myself a sandwich. I never tried to flee again. I knew I had nowhere else to go and at least at home, I had a shelter from the cold and food on the table. It was better than nothing.

When my old man learned what I did though – he learned it from one of our neighbors who'd seen me leave the house – he was furious. That time, he beat me so hard that I thought he'd kill me. It was the first time he used a knife on me. He carved my flesh over and over with a vengeance, ignoring my broken pleas for him to stop. By the time he finished with me and I was left curled up on the ground bleeding, I wished I'd died. It'd have been merciful, in fact, considering what happened to me a few months later.

* * *

I realized something over the years. I realized that no matter how hard my father bruised, cut or marked me, he made sure that he didn't do any significant damage that would make me deformed or to bruise my face too hard. He never left scars on my face and I often wondered why. If I'd known the reason for it, surely I'd have made a run for it again. I'd have taken starving to death trying to survive on my own outside any time over this fate that awaited me.

It was a few months before my tenth birthday when my life turned to a nightmare. Everything I went through before that day was nothing compared to what awaited me. That evening, my old man brought me with him into the city a few miles from the village. That's where he was 'working'. I remember I was completely terrified. I didn't know where he was bringing me and what he was going to have me do. Sometimes, I'm trying to forget that day but it's been branded into my mind, my body, my very soul, and it never left me.

My old man brought me to an old building that seemed abandoned at first glance. When we entered, he dragged me through a long, dark hallway with many closed doors. From behind those doors, I heard moans and cries of pain and it made me even more nervous. My dad took me to an empty room equipped with only a bed. He left me there alone in that cold room for a long time, and when he finally came back, another man was with him.

It was an old man with a cruel, cold smile and ungraceful physique. My old man muttered something to the stranger and then left, closing and locking the door behind him, leaving me alone with the old man who was suddenly leering at me in a way that raised shivers of fear on my skin. It's kind of ironic how you can remember up to the tiniest detail in situations that traumatize you while you often forget everything about the happiest moments. I feel like I never truly left that place, reviving that nightmare over and over again.

Even now, it's not the threat of walkers that wakes me up at night sometimes. It's that very memory. The memory of the first time I was defiled.

I remember it all so clearly. The stranger walked slowly towards me and I recoiled in fear and apprehension with each step he took until I was trapped against the wall. His whispered 'He was right. So pretty…' confused me and I didn't like the avid tone he used. When he grabbed my arm, I let out a surprised yelp and struggled as much as I could to get free. His grip was too tight though, and he managed to bring me to the bed.

He forced me down on the old mattress, trapping me between the filthy bed and his disgusting body. When I felt his hands feel me down and grope me through my clothes, I trashed under him and yelled at the top of my lungs. I was so terrified. I didn't know what he was about to do, I didn't know that my old man had just sold my virginity to some disgusting, old pervert. I had no clear concept of sex yet, and how could I? I wasn't even ten years old.

All I knew for sure at that moment was that the touch of those hands repulsed me.

No matter how much I struggled, the fat, ugly man didn't stop touching me. He slapped me hard across the face and tore at my clothes until I was lying on that bed cold, naked and shivering, and so ashamed under his hungry gaze. When his fat hands touched my bare skin, caressed me in unwanted places, in places no kid should ever be touched, the fear skyrocketed in me and I fought back harder.

He merely laughed this time as he pressed himself down against me, pinning me effortlessly against the mattress. I remember how helpless I felt then. How afraid, abandoned and alone I felt. I realized that no one would save me from what that man wanted to do to me.

My childish mind didn't truly grasp what was happening until my aggressor had gotten rid of his pants and that his fat dick was forcing its way into my small, unprepared body. The pain was so intense that I yelled in absolute agony and my entire body bucked away violently, trying to force him out. But the man wanted none of it; he pinned me down and kept penetrating my unwilling body, brutally splitting me open.

Once he was fully sheathed inside of me, his groan of rapture being muffled by my screams of pain, he began a punishing pace, ramming in and out of my tight, virgin hole. I kept screaming, pleading and sobbing as he raped me, tears running freely down my cheeks.

My violator ignored my pleas and my screams for him to stop. He kept taking what he wanted, again and again, and as my whole body was seized with pain by the violation, I felt something brutally break inside me as realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

My innocence was gone, being taken against my will by an old man in a cold room, and with it, a part of me died. My strength faded away and I stopped struggling, my tears now silently rolling down my cheeks. I looked lifelessly at the ceiling, my body wracked by spasms in the rhythm of the man's trusts inside me. A welcomed numbness took over me, blinding my pain, blinding my shame, my agony, leaving me with a frightening emptiness.

I lied there motionless and took it. I don't know how long it took before the man was finished with me. My mind had completely shut down, and with it, my sense of time became blurred. Eventually, a strange, wet and sticky warmth filled my abused ass and the old man groaned loudly, his filthy breath caressing the side of my neck. He collapsed on me, crushing me under his weight.

He stayed there for a moment before finally sliding out of my abused and broken body. He got dressed in silence and left the room without another look at me. I remember I stayed lying on that bed until my old man came back to fetch me, blood and cum coating my thighs and silent tears still running down my cheeks. It earned me a vicious slap in the face and my old man calling me a 'fucking pussy'.

That was the last time I'd cry for a long, long time.

* * *

Something really broke in me after that day. It's hard to describe what it was, but I felt it. It was torn away from me so brutally and I resented my old man for that. If I didn't feel so empty inside, I think I'd have tried to murder him in his sleep. But any desire to fight back against my fate, to get revenge for all the shit he threw at me was just... gone. It was robbed from me that day when I was lying on that dirty bed, used and broken.

My old man brought me back to that godforsaken place often after that. When I said nobody cared about me because I was just some redneck trash, I wasn't joking. Everybody knew what my old man was doing, what shit he was up to. They all knew that he was prostituting his own son in exchange for money for the living and no one did a single thing to stop it.

I stopped praying for help a long time ago, though. I felt that maybe I deserved all that was happening to me, that maybe it was meant to be and that I couldn't have a slice of happiness. I _was _a worthless piece of trash, after all. Eventually, I made my peace with the fact that maybe my sole purpose in life was to be a sexual reliever.

You can get used to a lot of things with time, but not to the pain of being taken by strangers on an almost daily basis. You can't get used to the fact that your own father is selling you. You can't get used to the humiliation and shame of being brought as nothing more than a fuck toy for a couple of old perverts.

You can't get used to the fact that on nights when your father is too drunk, he begins to visit you in your room in the middle of the night for a quick, painful fuck.

It lasted for four years; four long years when my existence was filled with endless pain and shame. I could have killed myself to escape it all; it would have been so easy. But I didn't. I'm not a coward and there was no way I'd have taken the easy way out. Most of all, I wanted to show Merle and my old man that I wasn't a weakling like they thought I was. So since I couldn't bring myself to escape it all, I muted my pain the best I could.

Drugs were a good way to go about it.

I might have been young, but I wasn't stupid. I've seen Merle take drugs too many times to count and I knew by now which ones could help numb my senses and the constant pain chilling my bones. I knew my brother had a stash of drugs hidden in his room, but I didn't dare steal some from him. He'd probably kill me if he found out. I needed money to buy some, so I tried to get a decent job in the village.

I should have known from the start it was useless. No one wanted to hire a filthy redneck, even less one that was not even of age to be paid other than under the table. Desperate, I went directly to one of the guys who sold drugs to Merle. Seeing I had no money and how desperate I was, he told me I could always trade sexual favors for the drugs.

I accepted. What did I have to lose, anyway? I had lost my pride a long time ago and I was so used to spreading my legs like a common whore that it didn't make a difference for me at that point.

I'm not proud of what I did, but there's no changing the past. I ended up whoring myself around to get drugs that helped numb my pain. Being fucked into a mattress daily and being beaten down by my old man became more tolerable thanks to the drugs. I was almost always high on some shit or another. I'm pretty sure the drugs would have ended up killing me if I'd kept it on, but it was the only thing I had left, the only anchor against the pain I constantly felt.

I was alone, and the few people I knew out there always used me or hurt me. Except for Merle. He was different. I'm not saying he was gentle with me or anything. If he'd be home more often, he'd probably take turns with my old man to beat me up if he thought it'd help me become a man like him. No, that wasn't it.

Merle cared in his own twisted way, but he cared nonetheless.

Merle. Nobody understands why I care about him even though he treated me like shit more often than not. It's not only because he's blood. Merle saved me from myself. He forced me to feel again, to wake up from the lethargic state I had hid into to mute my pain. Without him, I'm sure I would have died sooner or later. He helped me grow strong enough to stand on my own.

Like I already said, my brother was almost never at home while I was growing up. He's eight years older than me so he was already a teenager in my earliest memories. Always was a rebellious one too. He knew about the fact our old man was beating me up daily, probably because our dad used to do the same thing to him. He knew, but he didn't try to stop him.

I'm not stupid; I understood that it was because he wanted me to toughen up. In our family, there was no place for sissies. He wanted me to take it like a man and grow strong like him so I could protect myself in this harsh, cruel world. It was his way to show he cared. A shitty way, but a way nonetheless.

I doubt he knew about our old man raping me and forcing me to whore around to get money for the living, though. Our dad was always cautious to rape me on nights when Merle was not around. I didn't understand why he didn't want Merle to know. It would have only given me another reason to feel ashamed of myself, to know that my own brother would despise me for being as weak as to let myself being used as a fuck toy, by our own father no less.

Merle found out about it eventually, though. I was fourteen when it happened. That night, there was a party in one of the village's houses. The kids gathered there were older than me and I didn't know anyone, but I still went because I knew there'd be drug dealers mixed in and I was in a desperate need for some relief from the pain. Finding a dealer ready to exchange drugs for a quick fuck was easy. I didn't know this guy, I just knew he was way older than I was, maybe eight years or so. I stopped giving a shit about all that a long time ago.

We found an empty room upstairs and we were quick to get on to it, not even bothering to get rid of our clothes except for our pants and underwear. I found myself face down on the pillow, ass up in the air while the drug dealer took me eagerly from behind without much foreplay or preparation. I didn't want foreplay anyways. I didn't want the illusion of having someone care for my pleasure, because this was only a transaction and nothing else. All signs of affection would be nothing but lies and I was done fooling myself.

Nobody cared about me that way and I made my peace with it. I also lost hope that someone would eventually. Who'd want such a broken, used toy?

The room was soon filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and the grunts of pleasure from the man pounding into me. I stayed still, biting my lip to skilfully stop my moans of pain. I learned the hard way that it was best I hide the signs of my discomfort and pain. I met all of the dealer's trusts with my hips, taking him deeper each time and clenching my muscles to give him more pleasure and to quicken his release, ignoring the enhanced pain at my antics. I just wanted this to be over so I could have my drugs and numb the ever-existent pain again.

The dealer's hand sneaked around my waist to grab my limp dick and I quickly slapped it away. I didn't want pleasure from this disgusting act. I didn't want anything from those men. Some of them had tried to bring me pleasure while they raped me, but when their hands touched me there, it brought me only more pain and shame. It was already bad enough to let them use and take me however they liked, I wasn't about to find pleasure in getting raped.

The older guy did not insist when he heard the threatening growl bubbling from my throat. His hand found its place back on my hip. He kept on his punishing pace and I knew he was almost there when his breathing grew labored. He would probably have finished right then and there if it wasn't for the door suddenly opening. We both froze and when I turned my head to have a look at the intruder, I felt my heart stop in my chest.

It was Merle.

My brother merely stood there, looking at us with no emotion that could help me decipher what he was thinking. He met my gaze and I was unable to tear my eyes away from him. I couldn't believe he was there. Then again, the dealer I was fucking was probably one of his acquaintances. The drug dealer broke the uncomfortable silence. "Hey Merle, mind if I finish here?" he asked breathlessly, still buried balls deep inside my ass. Merle's gaze didn't stray from me as he answered in his gruff voice; "Go 'head. Can't let such a fine bitch pass ya up."

My brother's harsh words had such an impact on me that it left me breathless and I almost didn't feel it when the dealer resumed fucking me into the mattress under Merle's eyes. It cut into me like a knife and I turned my head away in shame, burying my face into the pillow. An emotion I had buried deep inside of me long ago suddenly came bubbling to the surface once more: self-disgust. Here I was, letting a stranger screw me like a common bitch in heat under my own brother's gaze.

I realized then that I couldn't have fallen lower.

Now my brother knew how much of a weak pussy I was. I never felt more ashamed in my entire life. When the drug dealer climaxed inside me with a loud groan, I asked myself: what have I been doing? What was I doing letting everyone use me like that? Did I have so little self-respect and pride? The fact that my brother was there to witness this was like a slap into my face, shoving into my face what I had become.

I felt so ashamed I wanted to die.

My entire body felt so numb that I barely felt the dealer slipping out of me, leaving behind only the sticky, disgusting mess that had become the bane of my existence. I slowly moved, putting my pants back in place while the dealer threw the little bag of drugs on my lap. He then left with Merle, who didn't even spare me another glance.

* * *

I don't remember how much time I stayed in that room still smelling of sex. Eventually, I went home in a second state of mind. Once there, I helped myself in the drugs I just earned and took more than I used to. Maybe I hoped to overdose; maybe I only wanted to forget the burning gaze of my brother watching me as I let myself be taken like a whore. I don't know why I did that, but when I was finished I was high as a kite.

Then, I took a long, cold shower, still completely clothed. I sat on the cold ground of the shower, my back to the wall and merely let the water run down over me. My senses were so numb this time that I barely felt the cold seeping through my clothes and skin, chilling my bones.

My mind was so drugged that I was barely conscious of it when Merle entered the bathroom. I slowly raised my head to look at him. The water ran down my pale and tired face and my eyes tried to focus on my brother's face. He stared at me for a long time and I was sure he'd begin to insult me any second now, calling me a pussy, and a whore, and everything that'd come to mind and that I already knew I was. But he didn't. Instead, only one word passed his lips.

"Why?"

He could have asked for anything. He could be asking me why I was doing drugs, or why I was whoring around... I didn't know what he wanted me to say, but it didn't matter because there was only one possible answer to that. "Dad," I slurred weakly. He was the answer to everything I was doing. Our old man had broken me, and I had let him. By the light of understanding that appeared in Merle's eyes, I'm certain now that he knew what our old man was doing to me.

Surely because he'd tried it with Merle too, but my brother had been strong enough to resist him.

I wasn't. I was never nearly as strong as Merle and probably never would be.

Merle didn't say anything else. He stopped the water and got me out of the shower with almost caring gestures. In silence, he dried me up, helped me into dry clothes – I was too high to do it myself – and brought me to my bed. I passed out not long after.

This was the first and last time I'd seen my brother so caring.

I woke up later in the middle of the night at the sound of my brother and father fighting downstairs. The drugs' effect had lessened some and I could distinctly hear what they were saying. They were fighting about me and it seemed ugly. Merle was standing up to me and preventing my dad to come to my room. If my body wasn't feeling so numb, I would have gone downstairs to fight my own battle, but I couldn't move. Besides, I felt so weak and sick that I succumbed to sleep soon.

The next day, my old man was nowhere to be seen. When I asked Merle where he was, he told me not to worry about him anymore. I feared at first that Merle had killed our old man. Don't get me wrong; I wouldn't give a shit if my dad was dead. I only feared the consequences for Merle if he killed him. I knew Merle enough to know he could have done it. I'd find out later that Merle had beaten our old man so hard that he'd sent him to the hospital. I was relieved to know he was far away from me for the time being, but I was a little disappointed that I wasn't the one sending him there.

Still, I was grateful to Merle.

Merle kept me locked into my room for a couple of days after that, forcing me to go into withdrawal. I can easily say that those were the most horrible days of my life. Being locked there with nothing other than my own fucked-up mind, I became quickly delirious and forced to face my twisted emotions, fears, _everything _that I'd pushed deep down inside me.

The memories of everything I'd been through at the hands of my old man also got mixed up with everything else. All the times he beat me to the ground with his fists, all the times he cut my skin with a knife, all the times he humiliated me, all the times he touched me in ways no father should do to his kids...

It all came crashing down around me.

Reviving my memories made me realize something; I never wanted to go through this again. I never wanted to let someone use me again; I never wanted to feel this weak, this powerless and helpless ever again. I'd rather die than be someone else's bitch again. Given the chance, I'd do whatever's necessary to survive and grow stronger so I could take care of myself. I had enough of being a victim. It had to stop.

Still, I wasn't being delusional. I knew I was used and damaged beyond repair and that I'd probably never be able to trust someone else again or let them in. I was scared to be hurt again and the only solution in my eyes was to stay away from other human beings. That's why I had to be strong enough not to rely on anyone else.

I had to do it. If I couldn't do it, I knew it was only a matter of time before I'd wither and die.

It was with this renewed need for survival that Merle found me when he let me out after almost a week locked in my room. He asked me to pack my bags, telling me we were leaving the house for good. I didn't object. I didn't want to see my old man's face ever again and I knew that wherever Merle would take me, it'd be better than to stay in this hellhole that contained so many bad memories of continued abuse. He was giving me an occasion to have a new start with him.

* * *

And so I and my brother began to travel around the States. We never stayed in one place for too long. Everywhere we went, people looked at us distrustfully. We were rednecks wherever we went and I knew this would never change. It would always be us against the world, but still I felt better than I ever did before. Whenever someone was trying to get at me, I fought back. I didn't let anyone get the better of me anymore.

Merle helped me greatly in regaining my confidence. He wasn't doing it with words of encouragement. That wasn't my brother. He did it with insults, treating me like a 'pussy' and girly names. If anything, it pushed me to show him I wasn't a damn girl and that I could take care of myself.

Merle taught me everything I know. He taught me how to hunt for food, how to steal without being caught, where to find the best places to sleep at night, everything that would help me survive in a world that rejected people like me. If I was still alive today, it was because of him. I owned him much, I knew it, and he knew it.

We didn't have the healthiest relationship. I knew Merle was the only one who cared about me and he used that to keep me chained to him, to keep a sense of control over me. But I didn't mind. I wasn't alone, and it was the only thing that mattered to me.

We traveled around for eighteen years, just my brother and me. Like I had promised myself, never once did I get attached to someone. Merle kept on sleeping around whenever he could, and tried many times to get me a good fuck, but I refused every time. I wasn't interested in sex; I sincerely doubted I'd want to have sex ever again, to tell the truth. I learned to loathe such intimate contact and the fact of doing it with a girl instead wasn't helping much. Merle ended up giving up on trying to get me laid and I was grateful for it.

And then, the unthinkable happened. The dead began to rise and it was total chaos everywhere. When shit started, Merle and I were stranded near Atlanta. We could stand our own in a fight, but there were just too many of those fucking abominations. We knew we wouldn't survive alone against those things so we reluctantly joined a group of survivors.

They accepted us among their mixed group without a second thought, but I could feel they were still keeping their distances with us because they didn't trust us rednecks. Merle wasn't helping much. He was constantly throwing racists comments in their faces and each time he did I fought hard not to tell my brother to stop. I'm not like Merle on that point. I'm so fed up with being treated like shit that I don't want to treat people like that even if they'd deserved it. Merle just figures that he should treat everyone poorly to make up for the way he was treated.

I wasn't agreeing with him, but I kept my trap shut, knowing it wouldn't help anyone if I angered my short-tempered brother.

Then, a couple of weeks after the outbreak started, Rick Grimes arrived in the group, and my life was turned upside down.

* * *

**A/N: **There you go for chapter 1!

Now this is my personal take on what Daryl's life was before we met him. We knew he was physically abused since we saw the scars on his chest in the episode 2x05: Chupacabra, and by the way he recoiled as if he was going to be hit when Carol leaned down to kiss his forehead.

As for the rape, I personally highly suspect that he went through sexual abuse too, though not at the hands of Merle. Maybe I was imagining it, but I remember how pissed off Daryl was when Randall talked about the men in his group raping two girls. I found it odd that he would react so strongly, because we only ever see him that angry when it concerns him or Merle. But well, it's merely my opinion! ^^

I'd be very glad to have your feedback, everyone, at least to know if it's worth continuing!

Thank you for reading!

Rose


	2. I'm riding up the heights of shame

**A/N: **Hi guys! I'm back with chapter 2!

Thank you all so much for the favorable response! I'm so glad you like it so far!

I'm going to always do my best to give you the best chapters possible and not take too long between updates ^^

Now to **Eve**, who I couldn't answer to your review in a PM: Thank you so much for leaving a review! I'm glad you like it so far and I really hope you'll stay for the ride ^^

The same warnings apply than with the last chapter and I don't own the characters nor do I make profit from this.

Okay, enough said! Enjoy and I'll see you at the end! ^^

* * *

**Mad World**

**Chapter 2: I'm riding up the heights of shame**

* * *

_A million mile from home, I'm walking ahead_

_I'm frozen to the bones, I am_

_A soldier on my own, I don't know the way_

_I'm riding up the heights of shame_

_I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest_

_I'm ready for the fight, and fate_

_Woodkid - Iron_

* * *

Then, a couple of weeks after the outbreak started, Rick Grimes arrived in the group, and my life was turned upside down.

He had one hell of an effect on everyone, especially me. He changed my life, and I can safely say now that it was for the best. There was just something about Rick – I don't know exactly what – that attracted people to him. Maybe it was his charisma; I don't know. The fact is I wasn't alien to it. It's probably why I didn't kill him for what he did to Merle.

When I first saw him, I was returning from a hunt. I chased a deer back to camp only to find him gnawed on by a fucking walker. I barely paid attention to Rick at the time, at least until I couldn't find Merle in the camp and he admitted to me he cuffed him to the rooftop of some building in Atlanta. Rage filled me and I wanted to gut him right then and there for what he did. I tried to, but that damned Shane stepped in and stopped me, forcing me to listen to Rick.

What I learned was no surprise. Merle always had a short temper and could be a real danger to other people, so it wasn't hard for me to believe Rick when he told me how Merle had been uncontrollable up there. I was pissed off and scared as hell that something happened to my brother. I couldn't lose Merle; not now, not ever. He was the only one that gave a shit about me. I wasn't ready to be left alone in this world.

Regaining control of my emotions before they got out of control, I asked Rick to tell me where they left him so I could go get him, but he surprised me when he said he would accompany me. He wanted to make things right and I found myself gaining a little bit of respect for him because of it. He could've just decided to leave Merle behind, but he didn't.

I wasn't forgetting he left my brother for dead, though.

What we found on the rooftop of the building shook me more than anything did since I left my old home with Merle all those years ago. My brother was gone. All that was left of him was his fucking _hand_. He cut his own hand to escape this death trap, and it was all Rick's and T-Dog's fault. I was so full of furor at that moment; something was once again taken away from me against my will. Why did everyone keep discriminating on me and Merle so much? I was so sick of it!

In my furor and pain, I aimed my precious crossbow towards T-Dog, and I would have killed him if Rick didn't point his gun at my head. But it was fortunate that he did, because I know I'd have regretted it. I was a lot of things, but I wasn't a killer.

My brother was lost to me from that point on and it forced me to see everything in a new perspective. I couldn't hide in Merle's shadow anymore. I was free to make my own judgments and choices. I thought at first that I stayed with these people because I kept the hope that Merle would find his way back to us, to me. Now I know it wasn't the case. Deep down, I knew he wouldn't come back, and I stayed because I didn't want to be alone.

Against my better judgment, and my promise not to get too close to people, I began to integrate myself in the group, little by little. Some of them started to look at me differently now that Merle was gone and I slowly but surely grew out of my shell. I was on my own and I could, for the first time in my life, find out who I really was.

* * *

It became more apparent to me when we lost Carol's little girl in the woods after we encountered a herd of walkers. I've made it my personal mission to rescue her. I don't know why I did it; maybe it was because I knew what it felt like to be lost in the woods on your own, even though _I_ didn't have walkers pursuing me at the time. Maybe it was something deeper. Maybe because that little girl represented something I'd never had a chance to be and I wanted to make sure she kept her childish innocence.

No matter the reason, I went out day and night to search for her. I was so desperate to find her; for Carol, and for myself.

I got gravely wounded while searching for her alone. The stupid horse I borrowed threw me down a cliff and one of my arrows pierced my side in the fall. It hurt like a bitch, but I'd known worse. It wasn't a wound like that that would prevent me from getting back to the group.

So I tried. I retrieved my crossbow where it had fallen from my back and I began climbing the slope, but I only made it halfway when I lost my footing and stumbled back down on the ground. The excruciating pain in my side made me pass out and I ended up hallucinating Merle in front of me when I slowly came to again.

I hadn't thought about Merle for some time, not since we left Atlanta after the fiasco at the CDC. I knew he was alive somewhere, and that was enough for me. He could be far, far away from where I was and that's why I didn't try to find him. But even gone, my brother was able to torment me.

Fuck, the things he said... they hurt me deep into my core, reopening old wounds that didn't have enough time to close. The worst part was that everything he said, _everything_, was true. I couldn't deny it; that I was used, that I was nothing more than a redneck trash to these people I came to slowly care about, that they would discard me first chance they got and that the only one who would ever care about me was Merle.

That I was Rick's bitch now.

No. Merle wasn't right. I was _nobody's _bitch. I would never bend down for someone else again, not even Rick who did alright by me so far. I may follow him for now, but that was only because he took the role of the group's leader and did whatever was right to protect the group. I wouldn't let him do everything he wanted with me. Merle was wrong. I would _prove _him wrong.

When I came to, it was to the sheer terror of having my shoe munched by a walker. I quickly pulled myself together and killed it, and used the arrow stuck in my side to kill the second one coming at me. There was no fucking way I'd die here, discarded like a piece of trash. I had to get back to the group, to at least tell everyone I found Sophia's doll, which was the first hard evidence that we had. _I_ was the one who'd found it. This thought is what gave me the strength to climb that fucking slope up.

I would prove to Merle that I was worth something, even if it fucking killed me! I'd find that girl and show him! I would prove to him that I was not a fucking pussy! With only my conviction in tow, I managed to make it back to the farm, only to be shot by Andrea, who nearly killed me. That bitch. She'd best pray I'm dead next time. I was so near passing out again that I was barely aware of being lifted from the ground and supported by both Shane and Rick. They brought me into the house for Hershel to take a look at my wounds.

They laid me on a comfortable bed. When I felt hands touch me to get rid of my shirt, though, my consciousness returned and I violently jerked away from those hands, panic filling me quickly. I calmed down only when I saw Rick's concerned eyes travel questioningly over my face. I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat and allowed Rick to get rid of my dirty shirt. I couldn't help but notice how his eyes roamed over my scarred chest and I wanted nothing more but to cover myself up again. I knew it was an ugly sight and it also felt too intimate to let anyone see the marks of the abuse I suffered.

Rick saw my discomfort since he soon tore his eyes away from my chest to concentrate on my side where Hershel was now working on my most serious wound. I noticed Shane was still looking at my scars, though, and the little light in his eyes made me feel uneasy. I knew that look. I had seen it too many times to count when I was younger.

It was the look of a predator wanting to devour his prey.

A shiver of fear ran down my spine at that and I suddenly felt like a scared little kid all over again. I knew I could defend myself now; I was far from being weak. But this was Shane. That man was dangerous. I knew that from the very first time I laid my eyes on him. I feared what he'd do to me if he caught me alone. I'd make sure he wouldn't.

Once Hershel finished working on me, he gave me painkillers that were quick to put me under. I don't know how much time I slept, but it was a soft knocking against the closed door to my room that woke me up later. I barely had the time to turn sleepy eyes towards the door when it opened to reveal Rick. I was surprised to see him here. Surely Rick had better things to do than visit me. I wasn't worth the attention or time.

Rick didn't wait for any response from me, nor did he ask for permission to enter the room.

"Hey. You're awake?" he asked softly as he closed the door.

I didn't answer, merely turning back around to stare at the opposite wall. I wanted to be left alone, but apparently Rick didn't get the memo. He circled my bed and took a seat at the edge of the bed, facing me and forcing me to look at him.

"What d'you want?" I asked in a biting tone, slurred to the edges because of the painkillers.

Rick stared at me with a calm expression that didn't manage to hide the hint of worry shining into his eyes.

"I just wanted to check up on you and see if you needed anything," he said softly.

Somehow, his worried words and tone angered me. I wasn't used to people being worried about me and I didn't know how to react to it. My first reaction in those cases was always anger. I snorted and glared at him the best I could in my drugged state.

"M fine. I don't need to be babysit," I spat defensively.

Rick sighed and smiled sadly at me, looking at me with an expression that threw me off.

"I'm not babysitting you. I would feel the same towards any of us. You're part of this group, Daryl. I can't help but worry when something happens to any of us, you included. We nearly lost you today, and believe me when I say it would have affected us all," Rick said gently, his eyes shining in the low light of the disappearing sun.

I felt an uncomfortable lump settle into my gut. Rick's words made me feel uneasy and shifty. No one ever told me that before and I didn't know how to react. And then, denial settled into me like it usually did. Rick was lying. The only reason why they tolerated me in the group was because I was a good hunter and a good fighter. Nobody cared about me. Merle was right; nobody would ever care about some redneck trash. Rick was lying through his teeth, there was no other way.

Denial was so much easier than seeing the truth.

I glared harder at the cop and subconsciously curled in on myself and away from Rick.

"Well, I'm not your responsibility and I sure as hell ain't your problem," I muttered with anger and pain lacing my words, avoiding Rick's gaze.

I closed in on myself, just wanting him to be gone. Silence stretched on after that. After what felt like minutes, Rick finally stood up. I jumped slightly when his warm hand closed around my shoulder and he leaned closer, stopping when he saw me flinch away.

"Let me be the judge for that, alright?" Rick said gently, his eyes open and trusting.

I fought the uneasy sensation settling into my stomach and brushed his hand away, gathering the blankets closer to me subconsciously as if I wanted to shield myself from him.

"Whatever. Just leave me alone," I said bristly, but my words didn't have any bite to them.

Rick felt it too, since he nodded and smiled softly at me.

"Alright. Get some rest. I'm sorry for disturbing you," Rick said softly.

Then, he left my room silently, leaving me alone to sort out the unwelcomed feelings his visit had rose in me.

* * *

Carol also came to see me later that evening, to bring me food and to thank me for going out to search for Sophia. I didn't understand why she thanked _me _of all people. I did nothing that Rick or Shane wouldn't have done. But then, she told me something no one had ever said to me, not even Merle; she told me I was worth something. That had more impact on me than any other words she could have said.

I was told all my life that I was worthless. How could these people think differently? Because I knew it wasn't just Carol. Rick had just hinted it earlier, and I knew Dale thought it too. They relied on me, cared for my opinion, cared for me to some extent and it was something so foreign to me...

I felt lost.

But if anything, it gave me a reason to push on and try harder to find Sophia. As soon as I was back on my feet, I wanted to resume the search. I had to find her, to prove to myself that maybe, just maybe, they were right and that I was worth something in the end. Finding that little girl would make me believe it. But then _it_ happened. We found her. In the barn. It was already too late for her.

She was one of them. A walker.

I can't describe what I felt then while I held Carol in my arms, preventing her to run to her little girl. I felt so many emotions, swirling inside me to form an ugly mix; anger, desperation, sadness, pain, resignation... it was too much to handle, but I kept it all inside for Carol's sake. She needed people to be strong for her right now, that much I knew.

I felt close to that woman because I understood her. We were alike. We had both gone through years of abuse at the hands of people we cared about. That's why I didn't want to abandon her. I wanted to be for her the person I never had a chance to have; someone that could comfort her and tell her everything would be alright, even if it was a lie.

But when she closed herself to everyone, refusing to mourn her daughter's passing, it was like a blow to my gut. I didn't expect her to react that way. Maybe I wanted her to cry, to confide in me. So when she didn't, I felt the weight of my helplessness drag me under and I isolated myself from the group again.

I pretended I didn't care about them anymore, that I was done with that shit, even as my chest burned painfully and I was mourning our loss just as much as them. I couldn't bear to face everyone while I was so fucking angry and upset. I knew from the start I'd only end up getting hurt if I allowed myself to grow close to other people, but I did it anyway and now look at me.

I was a mess. I never should have allowed it.

But it was too late. I grew to care about them and no amount of denial would change that. It frustrated me to no end. I just wanted to be left alone and heal my newly wounded heart.

But of course, everyone knew better but to grant me this one single wish. Lori came to me to _order_ me to go fetch her husband and Hershel in town and I brutally turned her down. I was tired of people ordering me around right now. I wasn't their errand boy. If I'd known that Lori would have almost died in a car accident because she decided to go get them herself, I wouldn't have turned her down.

This was another regret to add on my big pile of regrets.

The next morning, when Rick, Glenn and Hershel still weren't back, I made up my mind about going into town to fetch them, but they arrived before I could. And they weren't alone. They'd brought a teenager with them, who apparently was with another group of people who could present a danger to us.

I felt really uneasy about the whole situation. I knew from experience that it was best to deal with walkers than with other humans, especially in times like these. The end of the world tended to draw the worst in people and I feared what would happen if that guy's group were to find us.

Still, it wasn't my decision to make. I decided to stay aside and I'd stick by it.

* * *

Eventually, after trying to drop Randall – the kid – far away from camp didn't work out, Rick asked me to draw information out of him, wanting to know exactly what we'd be up against if his group came to search for him. He basically asked me to play a nice little torture session.

The thought bothered me a little, but I knew it was necessary and that no one else in our group could do it. Shane would most likely kill the boy and I knew Rick didn't trust him anymore. I was the only one he seemed to trust fully to have his back now. This baffled me. He trusted with his life the brother of the guy he left for dead in Atlanta.

Wonders never ceased.

What surprised me even more was that I trusted him back. Rick was the only man to whom I'd turn my back to and not expect to be stabbed for it or worse. We strangely grew closer over the course of the months and he became something like a friend, a trusted comrade.

It scared me more than I wanted to admit.

Because it was Rick who asked it of me, I went to see Randall and forced information out of him. The things that he revealed to me were alarming, to say the least. Thirty men. If they decided to come get him, we'd be in real trouble. But what he revealed to me next made my blood run cold. Some of those men were rapists.

Memories flashed before my eyes and rage overwhelmed me. There was no way – no _fucking _way – that some of my friends would go through the same thing I did. I would not allow it. Having nothing else on which to vent my anger on, I vented it on that boy. His pleas saying that he didn't do any of that and his begging sobs were what stopped me from killing him.

I believed him, and so I forced myself to calm down before I went too far.

I told Rick and the others what Randall told me before retiring hastily in my camp. I didn't really care about what would happen to that boy. They could do whatever they wanted with him. I was in too much turmoil to care either way.

At the mention of rape, the memories of my countless years of being constantly abused had bubbled up to the surface again and it made me sick to my stomach. I didn't want anyone to see me in that vulnerable state since I feared about them finding out what happened to me. It was irrational, because there was no way they could know, but I was in no state to think rationally.

Wanting to be left alone was too much to ask apparently since Dale came to me to ask me to side with him in sparing Randall. Deep down, I knew the boy didn't deserve to die, but I told Dale I couldn't care less, just wanting him to go away and believe my lies. But that old man was way too clever. He saw through me with so much ease that it scared me. He saw through every lie I said to everyone, and I couldn't take it. I felt so exposed it was almost painful. I needed to get away, so I put on my coat, grabbed my crossbow and left Dale there, walking towards the forest. Hunting something – be it walkers or food – would help calm my nerves a little.

Fuck I needed that right now.

I was so distracted by my thoughts that it took me a long time to notice the footsteps following me through the forest. They were heavy and I immediately recognized them as Shane's. A nervous lump formed into my throat and I held my crossbow more tightly. I had a good idea of the reason why he was following me and I'd be damned if I let him act on what he had in mind. I slowed my step a little and let him come closer to me. When he was just behind me, I quickly swirled around, aiming my crossbow at his face to threaten him.

I didn't take into account Shane's reflexes. He was a trained cop, after all.

Shane quickly grabbed my crossbow and disarmed me, throwing it on the ground. My heart picked up its pace and I quickly grabbed my hunting knife, aiming for the cop's throat this time in a quick movement. Shane had anticipated my move. He grabbed my wrist tightly and his other hand closed around my throat. He pushed me backwards until my back harshly hit the tree behind me and he trapped me there between the tree and his body.

I gasped as the air was knocked out of my lungs and the impact made me drop the knife. Shane kept me pinned there as he leaned closer to me. His face was so close to mine that I could feel his filthy breath on my cheek and I shuddered with fright and panic.

"Get your hands off me, fucker!" I exclaimed with rage and struggled like a wild animal against his hold.

Shane released my throat to grab my free wrist and pinned them both against the tree on each side of my face. He smirked then. It was a cruel, predatory smirk that sent dark chills of terror down my spine.

"Come on Daryl, let's have some fun," he said darkly.

I glared at him and molded my body against the tree, trying to get away from the touch of Shane's body, but he was quick to press himself fully against me again and I could suddenly feel his hard dick pocking my stomach insistently. My panic grew and I hid it under a thunderous fury.

"Go find yourself another bitch if you're horny!" I snarled into his face while I struggled like a madman in the little space I had.

My panicked mind didn't register the fact that there were little choice here for a fuck and I didn't want Shane to throw himself on anyone else either.

Shane's smirk grew more devious. He gathered my wrists into one hand and harshly grabbed my chin with the other. His fingers painfully dug into my jaw.

"Nah, you'll do just fine. I can be as rough with you as I want and you won't break. Besides, I've got a bone to settle with you," he said slowly, his soulless eyes looking me over.

I violently shook his hand away from my face. I kept my panic at bay the best I could and growled dangerously while I tried to pry my wrists free.

"The hell you're talkin' about? Fuck, let me go!" I seethed with anger.

Shane's smirk died down and he pushed me harder against the tree, making me hiss in pain as the tree's rough bark dug into my back.

"You think you can just take my place and become Rick's second, huh? I'll show you what happens when you mess into my turf," he hissed in return just before burying his face into my neck and biting on my skin hard enough to break it and draw blood.

I let out a broken sound that sounded like the pained wail of an animal. The memories of my past abuse came flooding me once more and I panicked. Only one thought filled my mind; it was going to happen again. Shane would rape me and I wouldn't be able to prevent him to. I was too weak.

The thought sickened me. I couldn't let that happen.

I trashed around even more, using every last bit of strength I had. I managed to finally pry one of my hands free from his tight grip and I punched Shane hard on the nose. It gave a satisfying breaking noise. Blood ran down from his broken nose and he backed away, wincing in pain. My heart was beating like crazy and my eyes quickly searched for my knife.

I found it lying not far on the ground. Only the adrenaline coursing through my veins allowed my legs to move from their numb state. I threw myself towards my knife, but I didn't make it in time. A strong hand grabbed my hair, stopping me from getting to my knife. I cursed loudly at the pain shooting through my scalp.

Shane kicked my knife away and used his heavier frame to push me to the ground. I winced in pain when the side of my face scrapped against the rocks on the ground. My insides twisted into a nervous knot when Shane's weight settled against my back. I bucked my hips violently to try to make him lose his balance, but the cop grabbed my hips in a punishing hold to keep me in place.

"Get off me, you son of a bitch, or I'll chop your dick off and make you choke on it!" I yelled, too panicked to remember we needed to keep quiet for fear of attracting walkers.

Those fuckers were the last of my worries right now.

Shane was far more dangerous than them and what he had in store for me was one hundred times worse than being eaten alive by a walker.

Shane bent over me fully and his filthy breath caressed the lobe of my ear.

"Keep it coming. I like them feisty," he whispered sultrily before licking a trail down my neck that made me shiver with fear.

When Shane used one of his hands to pin my neck to the ground and the other to tilt my hips up until I could feel the hard bulge of his cock rubbing against the cleft of my rear through our clothes, my mind reeled in a panicked frenzy and my eyes searched around for something, _anything _that'd help me fight Shane off. But there was nothing. My knife and crossbow were both out of reach.

A sound similar to one of a wounded animal was torn from my throat when Shane's hand went to the front of my pants to palm me through my clothes. I tried to jerk away from the touch, but the punishing hold on my hip was keeping me tightly in place.

"Stop lying to yourself, Daryl. You want this, don't you? I know you do. You want to feel my cock in your tight little ass, right?" Shane whispered, rubbing against me, mimicking the action he would do soon enough if I couldn't stop him in time.

The mere thought was enough to make me want to puke.

"Fuck you!" I hissed back, and I would have spat in his face if I could.

The words the cop was saying were reopening old wounds and hurting me deep into my core. What did I do to deserve any of it?!

Why, when I thought I was done with this nightmare, did it have to happen again?

Indignation suddenly filled me, blinding all of my senses. What was I doing? There was no way I'd just lay down and take it like I did so many times in the past! I swore to myself that I'd never let anyone use me anymore! Shane might be stronger than me, but like hell would I let him rape me! I had my pride!

With this resolution, I suddenly grew still, giving him the illusion that I was giving into him, but I kept my muscles strained, ready to strike any moment, and I waited. I waited for the split moment when Shane would loosen his attention and give me an opportunity to strike back. Shane seemed pleased by my sudden submission, if the small chuckle he let out was any indication.

"Sorry, but it's going to be the other way around. You had it coming. You've been swaying that sweet ass around camp for far too long, and I've been craving relief for a while. I figured I could put that ass to a good use. Maybe that dirty mouth too," he whispered, his breath coming out panting against my neck and making me wince in disgust.

Still, I waited.

He gave me an opportunity soon enough. Shane straightened up and his hand went to his belt that he opened eagerly. While he did so, his hand still gripping my waist loosened its hold just a little bit, but it was enough for me. Bracing myself on my hands and knees, I violently reared back, and the strength I used was enough to finally push Shane off of my back.

As soon as I could, I turned around on my back and didn't hesitate for a second. I kicked Shane hard, right on his manhood. The cop buckled over and hissed in excruciating pain. I didn't let him any time to recuperate. The adrenaline coursing through my veins and born from my fear made me act instinctively.

I managed to stand up on shaky legs and kicked Shane hard again, this time in the ribs. Shane cried out in pain and rolled over on the ground. I spotted my crossbow lying on the ground and quickly grabbed it. Before Shane had the time to react, my foot pressed heavily on his chest, keeping his back pinned on the ground and I aimed my armed crossbow right between his eyes. Shane froze and our eyes met.

My face was a mask of pure anger. My hands were shaking bad, and it was fortunate Shane didn't see it.

"I should kill you right now, you filthy piece of trash! But I won't, 'cause we need you. But the second you become a danger for me again or anyone else, I'll end you. I won't even hesitate," I seethed, my voice dead serious as I slowly spoke each word.

Shane did not answer. He merely stared at me with his cold, murderous eyes. I shivered as I knew what that man was capable of. Not many people – or things – these days were able to instill such a terror in me.

Shane was one of those.

I did a good job at hiding it, though, as I pressed my foot harder on his chest and tightened my grip on my crossbow.

"D'you understand me, you shit?!" I exclaimed angrily.

A cruel, amused smirk appeared on the cop's face and a maddening light shone in his eyes. Sweat formed on my skin and anxiety filled me. I feared Shane would try to do something funny.

After what seemed like an eternity, he lifted his hands in surrender and answered in an amused tone; "Alright."

I stared at him with distrust for a moment, but when Shane only lied there, I knew I had to believe he'd behave for now, but that didn't mean I'd let my guard down.

I slowly lifted my foot from his chest and he sat up before standing up, my crossbow still aimed at his face. He kept on staring at me in that predatory way and I tried not to show how it affected me.

"Leave now," I ordered briskly.

I was relieved when Shane obeyed. He turned around, but not without throwing a vicious look my way. He then left, slowly walking back the way we came.

Only when I couldn't see him anymore did I release my aim. The adrenaline suddenly left me in a rush and my legs buckled up under me. I collapsed on my knees and released the stuttering breath I'd been holding all this time. It'd been too much of a close call. My heart was still beating like crazy at the mere thought of what would have happened if I hadn't stopped Shane. I had to be more careful from now on. I knew Shane; even if he gave up now, he'd come back to the charge later and that time, he'd make sure I couldn't fight back.

If I wasn't more cautious, it'd only be a matter of time before he had me at his mercy.

I made my way back to the camp once I'd calmed down enough. I knew people would begin to worry about me if I stayed in the forest too long. I was still shaking when I arrived in camp and I tried to hide it from prying eyes. I'd have stayed away from the group, at least until I had completely calmed down, but I needed to warn Rick of the danger Shane represented.

One look around camp told me Shane was nowhere to be seen, which eased my nerves a little. I spotted Rick easily, though. He was near one of the wells, currently pumping water from it.

I quickly walked towards him. Rick heard me approaching. He lifted his head to look at me before I even got to him.

"Hey, I need to talk to you. It's important," I said as soon as I stopped in front of him, out of breath.

Rick's expression grew instantly concerned.

"What's going on? Wait, what happened to you?" he asked, grabbing my chin and tilting my face to the side to have a good look at my scrapped cheek and bloody bite wound on my neck.

I tensed and instantly covered the wound on my neck, before shaking Rick's hand away. I couldn't bear to see the genuine worry shining in the cop's eyes, so I skillfully avoided his gaze.

He and Shane were so different it was hard to believe they were best friends.

"Never mind that. It's 'bout Shane," I quickly diverted the subject from me to Shane.

My mind was already reeling to find a way to warn Rick without telling him I was almost raped half an hour ago. I really didn't want anyone to know that. I didn't want anyone – least of all Rick – to think I was too weak to protect myself, that I was nothing more than jail bait. It might have been true at one point, when I was still a kid, but I wasn't that scared kid anymore.

It was in the past and I intended to keep it that way.

Rick's worry deepened and he put his hands on his hips as he stared at me.

"What did he do now?" he asked and I didn't miss the hint of resignation in his voice.

If someone knew what Shane was capable of and what he was up to recently, it was Rick. I threw a quick look around us to make sure no one was close. I wanted this to stay between me and Rick; I didn't trust anyone else not to spread the word. I leaned a little closer to Rick.

"He's dangerous. Keep an eye on him, Rick. Most of all, make sure he doesn't stay alone with any of the women in our group," I whispered with an urgency that told him right away I was being dead serious.

The cop frowned, trying to understand what I was implying. Soon enough, a light of understanding appeared in Rick's eyes and his features darkened considerably.

"Are we talking about rape here? Is that what you're saying?" Rick inquired quietly, and I could hear the anger and disgust dripping from his words.

I merely nodded, and nervously prayed that Rick would take my word for it and not ask questions about how I knew this. It was too much to hope. Rick ran a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture.

"How... how do you know? Did you catch him with someone? Who?" he asked dreadfully, his gaze pleading me for answers.

I'd have given everything not to answer that question, but I could see how the mere thought of Shane raping one of the girls – and possibly Lori – was affecting him. I couldn't leave him like this.

I sighed and forced myself to hold Rick's gaze as I answered quietly; "The girls are fine for now. But they might not be if we're not cautious."

My answer was evasive to say the least. I couldn't bring myself to say anything else, for I'd give away what happened. I underestimated Rick, though. He understood what my words implied; I knew it when his gaze lowered to the bite on my neck and stayed there. I began to fidget subconsciously and stubbornly looked at the ground. I felt so vulnerable right now under Rick's burning gaze I might as well have been naked right now.

"Daryl," Rick's harsh voice had me snapping my gaze back on him anxiously.

Rick took a step closer to me, which made me tense until his hand gently grabbed my shoulder.

"Daryl, did he... did he touch you? He's the one who did that to you?" Rick asked slowly, motioning to my neck and cheek.

I stiffened even more. Fuck. I really underestimated him. Rick was not stupid. He could easily connect the dots with what I told him. I felt so ashamed I wanted to crawl into a hole and be far away from that inquisitive gaze that demanded answers. I didn't know why, but Rick was the last person I wanted to think of me as weak. I knew I should deny what just happened. But when I lifted my gaze to look into Rick's, and saw the trust and concern there, I couldn't do it. I couldn't lie to him, no matter how much I wished I could.

Rick had a strange sense of power over me that I couldn't come close to understand.

I bit my lip for a second in a nervous gesture before I decided to answer truthfully.

"Yeah. He tried to... have his way with me, but I stopped him before he could," I explained, cursing myself mentally for the small stutter that showed how affected I was by Shane's attempted rape.

This was something that I could never get used to, no matter how many times it happened to me in the past. You can't get used to the feeling of having your body violated.

You just can't.

Pain and regret appeared on the cop's face and it took me aback.

"God. I never thought he'd go so far. Are you okay?" Rick asked, and the genuine worry and concern for me made me sick.

I didn't deserve such emotions directed at me. I firmly believed that, and I always had. Being worthless and undeserving was branded into my brain since I was a kid and I couldn't help reacting badly to such concern towards me.

I curtly shook Rick's hand away from my shoulder and took a step back, glaring at him without as much conviction as I wanted.

"I don't need your pity. I'm fine, I can take care of myself," I replied dryly, but I wasn't able to hide the pain in my voice.

Rick seemed shocked by my defensiveness and my rebuttal, but I couldn't care less. I said what I needed to; now I could go and pretend as if everything that happened today was but a nightmare.

I could go back to pretend I didn't care about anything.

I turned around and was about to walk away from Rick when my arm was grabbed gently, but firmly, and I was whirled around to face Rick once again.

"Daryl, wait!" Rick pleaded.

I recoiled under the unwanted touch – I never allowed anyone to touch me if I could help it – and Rick saw it. He let me go, but if anything, the concern shining in his eyes grew more vivid.

"What?" I asked dryly while fighting every instinct in me that was telling me to get away _right now_.

"I didn't mean it like that. I know you can take care of yourself just fine. You're strong, I never doubted that. I'm just concerned about you because I care. We're friends, aren't we?" Rick asked me softly, his gaze searching mine with expectation.

Those words hit a nerve deep inside of me. Carol, and then Rick... what was it with everyone telling me I was important, _needed_? Those words warmed me up inside as much as they hurt me. I didn't know if I could ever believe them someday, but these people made me want to try my hardest to do it. They deserved that much.

I observed Rick carefully, like a wild animal would. When I saw the sincerity reflected in every fiber of his being, I nodded.

"Yeah... yeah we are. I'm fine. I was just shaken," I answered, and I didn't feel bad because that was at least half the truth.

I was fine, but I was more than shaken by what happened. Rick didn't need to know that, though. Rick stared at me then, but there was no pity in his gaze, only understanding and concern.

"I can understand why. Thank you for telling me. I'll keep a close eye on him and make sure he doesn't try again on anyone. Just one thing though; are you sure he won't be a danger to any of our men? I mean, he targeted you," Rick stated carefully, as if he feared it was too soon to talk about what Shane did.

I didn't even need to think about what Rick just asked. I shook my head and I had to refrain myself from smiling bitterly.

"It should just be me. You can trust me on this," I answered sincerely.

Then I grabbed the strap of my crossbow and with a final nod in Rick's direction, I turned around and walked away, leaving the cop to his own thoughts while mine were still reeling over Rick's last question.

Did I believe Shane would try to rape another one of the guys except me? No. I truly believed that. I was confident of it because I knew what kind of man Shane was. He was the type that wanted complete surrender and submission from his victim. He wouldn't get that from any normal man. He could get that from a man who was abused for years, though.

Chances are that guys like me, who were forced into submission so many times, would just lie down and take it obediently if they were to be abused again. Shane knew I was likely to be like that when he saw the clear signs of abuse on my chest the other day. That's why he went to me; he thought he could make me his bitch easily.

He would have surely succeeded if Merle didn't save me from myself all those years ago.

I went back to my isolated camp and once there, I could finally regain a semblance of composure, though I stayed on high alert if Shane ever decided to attack me again. I knew that I wouldn't get a good night sleep for a while, knowing he might be lurking in the shadows waiting for the right moment to strike.

But it wasn't as if I slept well lately anyway.

* * *

At sundown, we were all to gather and decide the fate of the boy we had in custody. I hesitated for a long time before deciding to go. I knew for one that everyone would vote for the boy to be executed and I didn't want to be a part of it. Second, I knew Shane would be there and I wasn't quite ready to face him after what transpired between us. In the end, I decided to go because I was no coward and I knew Rick would want me there. I made up my mind in keeping out of the debate and go along with what would be decided.

Still, I was nervous when I entered Hershel's house to join the others. Carol smiled at me when she saw me and it helped me a little. I felt Shane's gaze on me and skilfully avoided it, letting mine wander on Rick instead when he entered last with Lori and Carl. Rick held my gaze and nodded at me, both in reassurance and gratitude, I could tell. This along with Carol's smile finally put me at ease and I silently listened while they debated on Randall's fate.

I wasn't too surprised when it was decided he'd be executed. It pained me a little to have to kill that innocent boy, but I wouldn't argue with one of Rick's decisions. He was doing what he thought best for the group and being in his place, I'd probably do the same thing.

But when I, Shane and Rick dragged him into the barn that night to execute him, I admit I was relieved when Rick suddenly changed his mind after Carl asked him to kill the teenager. No matter what awful people Randall was hanging with before being left behind, he didn't deserve to die. Even I could tell.

We were left to decide again what we'd do with him and it was fine with me.

Dale, who had fought so hard to keep Randall alive, would be glad to know this. He had left the meeting before his fate had been decided. But Dale never got to know, because fate was one hell of a bitch. He was attacked by a walker. I was the one closest to Dale when I heard his scream so I ran towards him to help him. I managed to kill the fucker before he could kill Dale, but it was too late. His stomach was ripped open; there was nothing we could do to save him.

Rick drew his gun, and when he was about to shoot Dale to end his suffering, I saw the look of agony on his face. Feeling a wave of compassion towards him – Rick was always the one having to do the heavy lifting – I gently took the gun from his hands and put Dale out of his misery myself. It was the only thing I could do to share Rick's burden a little bit. It pained me to do it; I had grown to like Dale quite a bit. I admired his capacity to stay true to himself at all times and always do the right thing. This would be a great loss for our group.

We put the matter with Randall aside to take care of Dale's funeral. His passing strangely reformed our group that had started to stray apart. We knew Dale was suffering from it, from seeing our once tight group drifting apart. It was our way to honour his memory.

Rick came to me the next morning and told me he wanted me to help him bring Randall far away from here and drop him off somewhere with supplies. It might be a sloppy execution, but at least we wouldn't have it on our conscience. I told Rick I'd go with him. I was pleasantly surprised that he wanted _me_ to come with him instead of Shane.

On the other hand, it worried me because it would give another reason for Shane to hate me more. I realized I was truly taking his place by Rick's side. But frankly, I didn't blame Rick for doing it. Shane's way of acting recently was doubtful. He was constantly trying to make Rick stray from the right path, the one he tried his hardest to follow.

If anything, I was glad Rick trusted me to that extend.

We were about to depart when Shane came to us. Sensing he wanted to talk privately to Rick and not really eager to be in his presence, I told the cop that I'd go take a piss and I entered the house. When I finished my business and was about to join Rick back outside, I accidentally heard bribes of the conversation between him and Shane.

My hair stood on end when I heard Shane propose to Rick that he accompany me instead on the mission with Randall while Rick would talk to Carl about something. He said some shit about spending some time together to 'bond' more. My heart sped up frantically at the thought of being alone with that psycho. Fortunately, Rick declined, saying that he'd be the one going with me and I relaxed a little. Then I realized Rick just protected me from Shane and foreign warmth spread through my chest.

It was weird, but not unwelcomed.

We never had the time to take care of Randall, though. Rick had put the mission on hold until he'd finish talking to Carl and it was all the time it took for the teen to go missing. Apparently, he managed to break free and knock Shane out cold with a rock. I immediately knew there was something odd about that. I experienced firsthand how dangerous and strong Shane was. I had trouble overpowering him, and he was telling us that a weak teenager – and hurt at that – managed to clock him one?

Something was fishy and I was determined to find out what happened.

Me, Glenn, Shane and Rick went into the woods to search for Randall. He was supposedly armed with Shane's gun and we couldn't let him near our group. I went on my way with Glenn while Shane accompanied Rick. Glenn and I were the ones who found him. He was turned into a walker and we took him down.

When we inspected the body though, I knew something was terribly amiss. There was no bite. His neck was snapped and that was what killed him. But he was turned, how could this happen?! Glenn was as lost as me. Still, the fact remained that someone killed Randall. It wasn't hard to put two and two together.

Shane. And he was currently in the woods with Rick, searching for someone he already knew was dead.

My mouth grew dry as I realized what he wanted to do; Shane was out to kill Rick. I knew I should try to find them and help Rick, but I had no idea which way they went and trying to track them down in the darkness would be arduous at best. It was too dangerous to stay in the woods at night too long. I silently prayed that Rick would be cautious around Shane, or that he was maybe already back at the house and I was only imagining things. I really hoped it was the case.

We returned to the house and announced what happened to Randall to the others. We barely had the time to discuss this when walkers were spotted on the farm. A whole fucking herd of them. It was already clear in my mind that we'd lose the farm, but we decided to stay and protect it. We had made a home here, after all.

So we fought. We fought as long as we could, but we had to come to the conclusion that it was a lost cause after some time. We were all separated and I couldn't help but worry for everyone while I was watching the barn burn from afar.

That's when I heard a familiar voice scream in terror. Carol. I quickly drove my motorcycle to her and urged her to hop on. When she was safely with me and I departed, my heart was already a little lighter knowing at least Carol was fine. But it was too dangerous to stay here and try to find the others so I left the farm, riding at high speed through the night. There was only one place I could think off that I was sure to find the others if they were still alive.

The highway where we had left supplies for Sophia. The others would be there. They had to be.

While on the way there, we encountered Glenn and Maggie, and after that T-Dog, Lori and Beth. I guided them to the highway where Rick, Carl and Hershel were already waiting for us. I was so glad to see that almost everyone made it out unscathed. We lost Andrea, Shane, Patricia and Jimmy, though. When Carol and T-Dog told us they weren't sure if Andrea was dead, I wanted to go back to get her, but Rick stopped me hastily, telling me that she was likely gone from the farm if she was still alive.

I had to admit he was right and I didn't bring the subject again. I could see in Rick's face that he couldn't bear to lose me too, to lose anyone else in our group. I felt the same; I had grown so attached to these people that the mere thought of losing them all was painful. Merle would laugh at me so hard for letting myself get so emotional like that.

But Merle wasn't there anymore and I could finally be myself. I had come to terms that I needed these people just as much as they needed me too.

* * *

After we regrouped, we had no choice but to travel again and hope to find a safe place to stay and make ourselves a new home. It took many months, but we eventually stumbled on a prison and we all agreed to make our home there. It seemed to have fallen early at the hands of the walkers, so it was bound to be full of supplies and food. Also Lori was about to give birth soon, so it was imperative that we stay somewhere for her to have the baby safely.

Over the course of the months, Rick and I grew very close. Shane was dead and Rick took me as his second in command. For every decision he made, he always silently asked for my opinion first. I felt uneasy about it at first, but I slowly but surely made up my peace with the fact that Rick _needed _me, just like everyone else in the group. They looked up to me now to protect them and bring them food, and I didn't want to let them down. For the first time in my life, I had a purpose.

I was needed and it filled me with a sense of completion.

I even became Rick's confident. He often accompanied me when I was on guard duty or when I went hunting. Sometimes, he was silent. Other times, he told me about his fears, his conflicts with Lori, his hesitations, _everything_. I always listened to him in silence. He wasn't asking for advice, that which I couldn't have provided him. He was merely asking for my presence, for someone to listen to him and he knew I'd keep everything he said to myself.

He trusted me to that extend, and I could safely say now that I trusted him back with everything. Rick was the first person I trusted completely with my life. I never placed that much faith in anyone else before, not even Merle. There was just something about Rick that made it easy for him to break through all my walls and reach the vulnerable part of me that needed someone else's presence.

It terrorized me, because I didn't know anymore what I'd be willing to give to Rick if he ever asked for it.

We began to make our home in the prison. Cleaning area after area of walkers was exhausting, but we did it together and managed to avoid casualties as much as we could. Hershel lost one of his legs, though. But if Rick didn't act as quickly as he did, cutting off his infected leg, we would have lost him completely. This quick thinking is one of the reasons why we are all looking up to him as our leader. We probably wouldn't have gotten far without him.

I should have known not to hope for our situation to grow steady, though. Not even one week passed by in the prison when it turned to a nightmare once again. We had found a couple of prisoners a few days ago and Rick had to put one of them down because he'd have been a threat to our group. Another one escaped, and Rick left him for dead, trapped with some walkers. However, that one survived and sought revenge against us. He opened the gate we had closed when we first arrived that kept the walkers at bay and away from our group.

Glenn, Rick and I were away from the rest of the group, gathering firewood. We just came back when we saw walkers close in on our group, freed because of the now open gate. We yelled at them to run while we ran as fast as we could to get to them and help them. We didn't make it in time. When we arrived, and killed the remaining walkers, they had retreated inside the prison.

T-Dog had managed to close the gate back, and we thought we could quickly get inside to search for our friends and save them, but the alarms of the prison were suddenly activated and we had to go deactivate them before they attracted too many walkers. Once there, the prisoner who was responsible for this mess attacked us and we put him down before stopping the alarms.

Once we made it back outside, we could finally take in the damage of the attack. It was a disaster. We lost T-Dog, Carol and... Lori. She had given birth, but she didn't survive it. When Maggie emerged from the prison with Carl, carrying the small baby in her arms, the pain on Rick's face burned my chest as much as if it was my own loss.

I'd never seen Rick so devastated. It was heartbreaking. He broke down in tears, showing his vulnerable side for the first time. We were all at a loss as to what to do. When Rick pulled himself together enough to stand, I tried to call for his attention, but he was completely unresponsive. It worried me, but I had other things to worry about, namely the baby. Hershel told us the little baby girl needed formula and soon, or she wouldn't survive.

While we talked about what to do, Rick grabbed an ax lying on the ground and quickly disappeared inside from where Maggie and Carl arrived with the baby. I knew he was going to see his wife's body. I wanted to go after Rick, to make sure he'd be fine, or to at least try to take some of his pain away, but I knew he probably wanted to be alone to cope with his loss in his own way. I also understood that I had to take the leader's role while Rick would work things out. I needed to make sure his baby girl survived.

I decided to make a run for baby formula and Maggie accompanied me. We had to do it quickly. Fortunately, as we searched through some abandoned houses, it didn't take us too long to find baby formula, diapers, everything that we would need to take care of a baby. When we came back to the prison, night was upon us. The little baby was crying in Carl's arms, who seemed at a loss about what to do.

What I did next was completely instinctual. I went to Carl and gently took her from him, carefully cradling her into my arms. Her crying lessened instantly. As soon as I held that little baby girl, I felt warmth fill me, making me smile while I rocked her gently and shushed her. She was so innocent, so pure, that I felt the need to protect her from that cruel world.

For me, she meant hope for a better future was not lost. I promised myself that I'd never let anything harm her.

I began to take care of her as much as I could, and it surprised me as much as everyone else that she could draw out my gentle nature so easily. She also helped me to take my mind of the loss of our friends, which was still too fresh and painful. Carol, especially, hit me badly. I had come to care a great deal about her and I knew it would take time for me to get over her loss.

Rick finally managed to pull it together and when he came back to us calm and collected, he began to take care of Judith – it was the baby's name – in turn with me and the others. Though it was made pretty clear soon enough that I was the only one who could calm Judith down when she was crying for no reason. Maybe it was because I was the first one to feed her. Maybe she took me as some sort of motherly figure, since she didn't have a mother.

No matter what the reason was, she felt more at ease and comfortable when it was me holding her. The others never missed a moment to tease me about it and I knew they found the sight of me rocking a baby to sleep amusing and adorable. I didn't understand how that innocent child could feel so at ease in the arms of someone as defiled as me, but it felt good. It gave me hope that it may not be too late for me after all.

Rick was very grateful to me for taking care of his baby girl. I could see it in his eyes, even if he didn't tell me often. Sometimes, he and I understood each other without the need for words. He didn't need to thank me. I was happy to take care of Judith, to try to give her a childhood like I never had.

A few days after Judith's birth, another miracle happened; I found Carol. She had managed to hide in a small room and blocked the door with the corpse of a walker. She was weak, but alive and it was more than I could ask for. The news of her being alive lifted everyone's spirits and helped us in dealing with the deaths of Lori and T-Dog.

Several months passed without any major incidents. Judith was almost three months old now. We still had food for another three months or so, but we began making runs into the nearest town to get some more food and we started to grow crops like we wanted to do since we got here.

Despite our losses, we pulled through, and having to take care of a baby was helping everyone with that. Every day, the bonds we had with the others were growing stronger. I felt I was part of a real family for the first time in my life. Strangely enough, I was happy, and I could tell Rick was getting there, slowly but surely. Every passing day, he was getting over Lori's day little by little. At least he still had Carl, Judith... and me.

He knew I was there for him and his family.

The more time passed, the more I noticed Rick's gaze lingering on me sometimes, and I could see in his eyes that something was troubling him. I didn't ask, though. I figured he'd tell me what was on his mind when he was ready.

Only, I really wasn't expecting it when it happened, nor could I have guessed what was on his mind.

* * *

**A/N:** So that's it for chapter 2! I hope you liked it ^^

What does Rick could possibly be thinking, huh? ;)

Next chapter will be a little different. It's going to be from Rick's POV this time, so stay tuned for the next one! A big thanks to **Petteroes3** for the suggestion ;)

Thanks to everyone who keep reading and reviewing! It makes me very happy to have your feedback! :D

So see you next time and take care!

Rose


	3. Take it away

**A/N: **Hi guys! It's certainly been a while, hasn't it? I finally managed to write some more, so I'm back!

Okay, I know I promised you that next chapter would be from Rick's POV, but for some reason the story didn't want to be written from his perspective, and I grew too frustrated that I eventually gave up on the idea. I'm sorry about that, guys T_T

But on a happier tone, this chapter finishes the story. I know, it's unfortunately already the end, but I have another Walking Dead story in writing process, and although it could have went with this one on some aspects, I decided to pull them completely apart for various reasons. So this story ends here, but I'll have more in store for the lot of you who liked my story :)

I won't keep you any longer! Have fun reading!

As always, I own nothing but the storyline!

* * *

**Mad World**

**Chapter 3: Take it away**

* * *

_It's the world I've grown to know_

_Unforgiving and so cold_

_Take it away, take it away_

_I don't want it_

_It's a life I'm forced to live_

_I've got nothing more to give_

_Take it away, take it away_

_I don't want it anymore_

_Five Finger Death Punch – Generation Dead_

* * *

The more time passed, the more I noticed Rick's gaze lingering on me sometimes, and I could see in his eyes that something was troubling him. I didn't ask, though. I figured he'd tell me what was on his mind when he was ready.

Only, I really wasn't expecting it when it happened, nor could I have guessed what was on his mind.

It was the middle of the night and I was silently strolling near the cell blocks as it was my guard shift. I suddenly heard Judith's soft crying coming from Rick's cell. I shouldered my crossbow and immediately went to answer her call. I found Rick standing in the cell, rocking Judith in his arms and trying to lull her back to sleep. When his eyes met mine, I approached him and reached my arms to him.

"Give her to me," I asked quietly and Rick nodded before handing her over.

Judith's cries immediately died down when she was tucked safely in the haven of my arms. I smiled softly down at her and rocked her gently, shushing her and humming under my breath.

While I slowly put Judith back to sleep, I felt Rick's gaze on me and lifted mine to lock them together. Even through the darkness, I could see fondness shining in Rick's eyes and it made my heart beat faster for some reason. I swallowed the nervous lump that was stuck in my throat and carefully put Judith down in her crib once she was asleep again.

I gently stroked her hair with my calloused fingertips before turning around to face Rick once more. He was smiling at me in a way that warmed me up inside. Lately, whenever he smiled at me that way, I always felt that warmth fill me and I didn't understand why because I'd never felt that way before.

"You're so good to her. She loves you a lot, I can tell," Rick whispered with fondness and I fidgeted with embarrassment in return.

I wasn't used to compliments. I was more used to the other way around, being told how of a worthless piece of trash I was. But these people... these people were good to me. I could finally begin to believe I had worth.

I shyly smiled back, and tried not to show my embarrassment too much. "It goes both ways, then," I answered quietly to make sure not to wake Judith up.

Eager to leave before embarrassing myself further, I nodded at Rick and left his cell. I didn't make even four steps in the hallway when I felt a warm hand close around my wrist. My first reflex was to fight back, so I turned around ready to lash out, but I relaxed when I realized it was just Rick. He had followed me out of his cell.

Rick was staring at me with something that I couldn't decipher, and it was making me nervous.

"What?" I asked defensively.

Rick kept his hand on my wrist, like he feared I'd run away if he released me. I'm sure I would have, because I suddenly felt really nervous under Rick's gaze. Rick took one step closer to me and I froze there, eying him carefully.

"You know I care about you too, right?" Rick whispered, his eyes honest and soft.

It made my heart beat faster. I stayed silent, dreading where this conversation was going.

Seeing I wasn't about to answer anything, Rick talked again in a soft, hopeful whisper; "I've thought about this a lot. I want you... to be a part of Judith's life... and mine too."

All the air seemed to escape my lungs in a split second. Rick wasn't asking me what I thought he was... wasn't he? It was impossible. I must be making things up.

"I'm here, aren't I?" I answered quietly, my mouth having suddenly gone dry.

I wanted to tell Rick to stop this, because it couldn't happen. It just couldn't. Rick's hand on my wrist suddenly left it to gently cup my cheek instead. I was startled by the gesture and I should have pulled away from the touch, but I was too surprised and mortified to react. I merely stared at Rick, completely unmoving.

"Not that way. I was hoping for more than that," he whispered, his face so close now that his breath on my skin gave me shivers.

And then, Rick's lips were on mine, warm and giving, and showing me what he meant, what exactly he wanted from me.

It would register in my mind only later than he'd just stolen my first kiss.

It took me a few seconds to realize what Rick was doing, and when I did, I completely panicked, my body seized with fear under the violation. I violently pushed Rick away from me and glared darkly at him.

"Get off me! What the fuck was that?!" I hissed as quietly as I could, remembering Judith was sleeping a few feet away from us.

I was so angry and afraid by what he just did that I couldn't care less about the rejection and concern shining in Rick's eyes. I turned around and made to leave, but Rick caught my wrist again and prevented me from doing so.

"Daryl, wait!" he pleaded softly.

I turned around to face him again and yanked harshly on my arm, trying to dislodge Rick, but he wouldn't budge. I suddenly felt like a trapped animal and my panic grew.

"Let go off me! I'm not your bitch! Don't think you can do whatever the fuck you want with me!" I hissed angrily, and my fear was so strong I was sure Rick could feel it radiating from my entire body.

Rick grabbed my arms gently but firmly, keeping me in place while he stared at me with a soft and pleading expression.

"You misunderstand me, Daryl! I wouldn't use you and discard you! I'd never to that to you, believe me. Please, calm down and let me explain!" Rick asked me gently and against my better judgment, I slowly calmed down, but I still stared cautiously at him, ready to bolt at any second.

I trusted Rick – more than anyone else – and I didn't want to believe he was like Shane or all the other people who used me in the past.

He deserved that I at least listened to him.

Sensing I wouldn't flee for now, Rick loosened his grip around my arms.

"I feel something strong for you. Really strong. I don't know when I began to feel like that about you, but it became stronger after Lori..." Rick began, but his voice caught in his throat.

Lori's death was still too fresh; he was still unable to talk about it and I understood. I waited in silence for him to continue, my heart beating faster and faster at what his words were implying.

A small, somewhat sad smile appeared on Rick's face.

"I don't think I can call it love yet, it's too soon for that, but what I know for sure is that I want a relationship with you. I'm talking about long term here. But I won't force you if you don't want that. It's your call. If you feel nothing towards me, then just tell me and I'll understand," Rick said softly and his words were like a slap into my face.

I gasped and struggled out of Rick's hands as if his touch burned me. I turned my back to him and tried to control my now erratic breathing. Rick wanted me? He wanted me the same way he had his wife? He had feelings for me, whatever they were.

But how could he? How could he care that much about someone as broken, filthy and used as me? I wasn't worthy of such feelings. I wasn't worthy to have such an important place in his life. What was he thinking, when he could have so much better than me?

I kept my back to him and closed my eyes as I answered in a pained whisper; "Ya don't know what you're asking. Ya don't know me, Rick. Ya don't know what I went through and what I did. Ya... don't want someone like me, trust me."

Silence answered my words and I thought for a split second that Rick was gone, that he'd just been playing around with me to see my reaction and that he wasn't serious. But the next second, I felt hands on my shoulders, gently turning me around until my tortured eyes could lock with Rick's understanding ones.

The hands on my shoulders rose to cup my face gently, and I stiffened for a split second before relaxing when I realized Rick wouldn't move more than that. He held my gaze gently.

"Daryl... I like the person that you are _right now_. And who you are now was forged by your past experiences. I would accept it all, because it made you who you are. Isn't it all that matters?" he whispered words that hit me straight to my core.

Rick was serious. He was telling me that he'd accept everything about me. He didn't care about anything I could have done, about how horrible my past may be.

I averted my gaze and bit my lip nervously. It was too much for me to process right now. I just wanted to get out of here before breaking down.

"I... I don't know if I can give ya that," I said in a broken and pained voice.

I wasn't lying. I never once in my life imagined what it'd be like to be in a relationship. I didn't know if I even wanted it. I was forcefully touched so many times in my life that it robbed me of the will to seek the touch of another human being.

Still, I realized needed it badly. I'd needed comfort and reassuring touches for a while, but I never knew how to ask for them. I didn't know if I even _deserved_ it.

Rick released me and sought my gaze. When I carefully met his eyes, I saw Rick looking pleadingly at me.

"Just think about it, okay?" Rick whispered softly and waited for my answer.

I slowly nodded. "Yeah..." I answered quietly, fighting the nervous lump forming in my throat.

Rick gave me a small, grateful smile before turning around and returning to his cell. I was quick to return to my guard round, making sure to avoid Rick's cell for the rest of the night.

* * *

The following days, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake what happened with Rick out of my mind. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't seriously thinking about what Rick asked. I loved that baby girl since the first moment I had her in my arms. I wouldn't mind having a chance to see her grow up and give her the life I never had.

And Rick... I was at a loss about him. I didn't know what I felt towards him. I trusted him with my life, I felt at ease in his presence and I didn't fear to be myself when I was with him. Sometimes, I even considered telling him my past, which I never did with anyone before. He was the first person to make me feel like this and I knew he would probably be the last.

I also knew he was a good man and that he'd never hurt me intentionally or force me to do something I didn't want to. He'd been a good husband to Lori and I dared to think he'd be good to me also. But I was still scared, scared of so many things... scared to open my wounded heart to Rick, scared to be hurt again physically or emotionally, scared to get attached to him and Judith only to lose them in the end. I had enough pain for a lifetime.

Then, I thought about what my life could be like if they were a part of it. To be able to take care of Judith, to love her and give her what I never had... to wake up next to someone who wouldn't try to hurt me or use me... to feel protected, and maybe even loved...

I stopped my train of thoughts when it burned my chest painfully. How could someone such as me, a filthy redneck, even hope for such happiness? I was too broken and damaged to be loved. And still, Rick wanted me. I didn't understand how he could want me. He'd been so serious, and he'd seemed to be thinking about it for a long time. He didn't care about how ugly and dark my past could be.

He wanted me, plain and simple, and I found myself wishing I could tell him I wanted to be with him too.

A few days passed in which life went on as normally as it could in the prison. I still kept on protecting the others and taking care of Judith as much as I could, but I tried to keep my distances with Rick until I came to a decision. He seemed to understand my need for some space and time since he never asked me for an answer. I was grateful to him for it. I needed some time alone to think carefully about what I wanted, and if I even deserved it.

What made me decide was a simple thing, really. One evening, it was time to put Judith to bed and since Rick was busy patrolling the hallways to make sure every lock was secure, I told him I'd put her to bed myself. I was rocking her gently and humming under my breath, playing with her little hand. Judith was gurgling happily and I smiled fondly at her.

Suddenly, she extended a small hand to touch my face and she smiled at me, cooing happily. I gasped in surprise at that. I'd never seen Judith smile before. She was looking straight at me and smiling to me. That smile was all for me. She was happy to be with me, in my arms, and she showed it to me.

She didn't care about my dirtied soul and body; she saw beyond that.

Without knowing the reason, I felt my eyes burn and my vision blurred with unshed tears, leaving me perplexed. What the hell? I hadn't cried since I was a kid, since that fateful night I had lost my innocence. Why now? Why did I feel the need to cry when my chest bloomed with happiness right now? Oh, that's why. Those were tears of happiness.

That little girl was really something. By such a small gesture, she was showing me that there was still hope for me, that I wasn't broken beyond repair, that some people could still care for me despite my flaws; that it didn't matter in the end. I finally believed Rick when he told me the past didn't matter; I finally believed that he could want me despite the darkness in my heart.

And just like that, I knew what I wanted.

When Rick came back later to his cell, I was standing next to Judith's crib, watching her with a fond look in my eyes. I felt Rick's gaze on me and turned my face slowly to meet it. Rick smiled gently at me.

"Thank you, Daryl. I'll take over now," he said quietly.

I nodded, but instead of leaving like I'd normally do, I stayed there, returning my gaze on Judith. I stayed silent, and it seemed to worry Rick since he walked to my side and tried to seek my gaze, calling my name in a worried whisper. My fingers tightened around the crib's edge.

"Judith, she... she smiled to me earlier. Looked right at me and smiled to me," I whispered shakily, remembering how touched and moved I'd been by the small gesture.

I shyly met Rick's eyes then, to find him detailing my face closely, drinking in my features. I felt very vulnerable just then, but instead of running away like my instincts were telling me to do, I stayed there, holding that blue gaze with my own. I had enough of running. I made my decision and I'd live by it. Rick deserved to know.

"It made me realize that... I wanna be there for her, I wanna see her grow up, and give her as much happiness as I can. I wanna be a part of her life... and yours," I finished, my heart beating louder and faster.

There, I said it. There was no turning back now. This is what I wanted: a chance to love, and maybe to be loved in return.

Surprise shone only briefly in Rick's eyes, being quickly replaced by happiness. A beautiful smile appeared on his face and he lifted a hand to cup my cheek, which made me flinch instinctively. I lowered my eyes in shame when I saw concern in Rick's eyes as he wondered if he did something wrong.

I was so mad at myself for reacting that way! I could count on one hand the number of times I was touched without it being for causing pain. It was ingrained so deep into my soul that it'd take time for me to get used to being touched by Rick and not recoil. But how could I tell him that without explaining to him what I'd been through, why I was afraid of being touched?

Rick gently lifted my face and smiled at me when I forced my gaze back into his own. He leaned closer to me and I stiffened involuntarily.

Rick sensed it and whispered near my lips; "Don't be afraid... just let yourself go..."

If I wasn't so nervous and so overwhelmed by the moment, I'd have smiled at the way Rick seemed to have read my mind. It was almost scary how much we understood about the other without needing words.

I forced my body to relax and I surrendered completely to Rick. Soon enough, I felt the press of Rick's warm lips against mine. This time, I didn't push Rick away, but I was still hesitant when he moved his lips against mine, no really knowing what to do. No one ever kissed me before, so I had no clue what to do and it made me nervous. Rick's hand slowly made its way at the base of my neck and he gently caressed my skin, raising shivers on my skin and making me relax completely.

I felt my legs grow weak and I grabbed a handful of Rick's shirt to support me, hesitantly returning the kiss by moving my lips in synch with his, copying his movements. It was such a foreign touch for me; for all the times I had sex in the past, I was a virgin in so many ways when it came to being intimate with someone else.

I was somewhat glad I could give those firsts to Rick.

Pleasant warmth filled me as we kissed gently and discovered the taste and feel of the other's lips. I let this warmth consume me. Rick was gentle and giving, and for the first time in my life, I felt at ease under the touch of someone else and actually wished Rick would never stop touching me.

Unfortunately, we had to break apart for air. Rick gently leaned his forehead against mine and smiled brightly at me. I returned his smile as best I could. For the first time in a long, long time, I had a real reason to smile. I was happy and content with Rick.

"I'm glad... I'm so glad to have you, Daryl..." Rick whispered shakily near my lips.

I wanted to tell him I felt the same, but happy gurgles coming from the crib stopped me before I could. We both turned our heads towards it to see Judith smiling at us and waving her little arms, gurgling and cooing happily. I chuckled at that and Rick smiled fondly, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

"Seems Judith's glad too," he whispered and I couldn't help but agree with him.

The little baby girl seemed way too happy right now. I bent down over the crib and gently gathered her in my arms.

"You hear that, sweetheart? You won't get rid of me ever," I whispered softly.

I was startled when a pair of strong arms wrapped slowly around my waist, but I soon relaxed when Rick's warm chest pressed against my back and his chin lied on my shoulder. I leaned back into him, letting his warmth calm and lull me. And in that moment, when I held Judith in my arms and was wrapped into Rick's loving and gentle arms, I realized something.

This was my family now. I wasn't alone anymore. I found my place in this world.

* * *

Rick really was a good man. I never doubted it, but he proved it to me over the course of those two months we began dating. We didn't keep it a secret. When you are part of a small group enclosed in the same building, there's not much room for secrets so we didn't even bother. Many were surprised by the news, though some of our friends had suspected there was something between us, mostly the women.

No one minded, though. Carl had trouble accepting it at first, but he came around pretty quickly. They were just happy for us, who managed to find a little bit of happiness among the horror surrounding us. Carol was very supportive of us and did everything she could to help us, be it only by watching over Judith when we wanted some quality time alone.

Though I'm not proud to say we didn't really take advantage of this time together, because of me.

Rick and I didn't sleep together yet. Well, we slept in the same cot now, but we didn't have sex. It wasn't the lack of sexual attraction, oh no. Rick was the first person ever whose touch awakened a burning desire in me. And I knew for a fact that Rick wanted me too. _I_ was the problem. Whenever we were about to get serious, I freaked out and pushed him away. Rick was confused at first, especially since I couldn't find an excuse for my behavior.

But Rick wasn't stupid. I was sure he put two and two together after it happened for a couple of times and figured out why I had trouble getting intimate. He was so observant that I was pretty sure he didn't miss the sheer panic and fear that took over me in those moments. He eventually gave me my space and let me engage our encounters, wanting to make sure I was okay with everything and that he didn't push me too far.

He was really good to me. I knew by then that no matter how sexually frustrated he could get, he would never force himself on me.

Because he had needs, and he couldn't hide them from me as much as he wished he could.

I couldn't stop feeling bad for denying him something he had every right to have. We were a couple now, it was only normal that he would want to have sex with me and I wanted to give myself to him so badly, but I couldn't. I couldn't because those memories of every time I was forcefully taken against my will in the past kept haunting me.

Sex for me was synonym for pain, and shame. It was a disgusting act in which I never once found any pleasure in. I knew it was supposed to be pleasurable, when it was done right and with the right person, but I had trouble picturing it.

After some time, I realized how stupid I was. What was I afraid of? Didn't I trust Rick to do things right? He'd never hurt me intentionally, I knew that. I even suspected that if I were to ask for it, he'd let me take him instead. But I didn't want it that way. I needed Rick to have me, in hopes that he could erase some of my bad memories and replace them with good ones. It needed to be done, and the more I dragged it on, the more I knew I was likely to lose my guts to ever get intimate with Rick.

It needed to be done. Soon.

* * *

I made up my mind. I wasn't a coward and it was time I went through with this. The next day, I went to Carol and asked her if she could watch over Judith that night. She agreed with a small, knowing smile. Rick and I would have the entire night for ourselves without fearing any interruptions. There'd be no turning back now. I realized it fully when I dragged Rick into an empty cell a little further apart from the others once it was time to get to bed.

My heart was beating like crazy when we entered the cell. I couldn't bring myself to look Rick in the eye while I shakily put my crossbow down against the wall. When I turned around to face Rick once more, I finally met his gaze and saw slight confusion in his eyes.

I ignored it and broke the distance between us to claim Rick's lips in a gentle kiss. Rick was quick to respond and he returned the kiss, letting his arms wrap around my waist to bring me closer. I closed my eyes, gathering my guts. I could do this. I was with Rick, who'd never hurt me.

I could do this.

My shaking hands went to his shoulders and I slipped his coat off them, making it fall soundlessly to the ground. Rick broke the kiss, making me open my eyes and I stared at him only to see a pair of concerned blue eyes staring back at me.

"Daryl... are you sure?" Rick whispered slowly.

I wanted to speak, to tell him that I was serious, but my throat felt dry with nervousness. I decided to nod instead and kissed Rick again. He kissed back, deepening the contact with eagerness and his hands carefully divested me of my own coat. My heartbeat quickened even more while I dragged Rick to the cot and made him sit on the edge.

I straddled his lap and claimed Rick's lips once more, letting my hands caress his chest through his shirt. Rick sighed and his own hands traveled to my back, caressing it slowly, making me shiver in want. His tongue asked for entrance and I surrendered easily, letting my lips part to invite his tongue in.

The kiss grew heated, and so did our caresses. I was getting lost in the moment until I felt Rick's hands slowly slip under my shirt to feel my skin. I froze and began shaking, panicking slightly as I knew Rick could feel the countless scars littering my back. In the last two months, I always stopped Rick whenever he wanted to touch my skin. I didn't want him to ask any questions on how I got those.

We broke the kiss and Rick caught my shaking hands in his.

"You're shaking... we can stop if you want," he said softly, and I saw into his eyes that he was serious.

The fact that Rick would never force me into anything was enough to kill the last of my hesitations.

I dropped a quick kiss on his lips and whispered near them; "I want to do this. I_ have_ to."

Rick seemed to understand this since he didn't push the subject nor did he ask me again. I was glad for that. My hands grabbed the hem of Rick's shirt and I lifted it. With his help, we got rid of his shirt and I threw it on the ground. I eyed his smooth, built chest for a moment before leaning in and trailing kisses and bites along it.

I was good at pleasuring others and I gave Rick everything I had. I knew I was doing it right when Rick brought one hand to bury it in my hair encouragingly while his other hand resumed caressing my back, making me stiffen only momentarily before I relaxed again. I kissed a trail down to Rick's belt. My hands grabbed it and I deftly untied the belt.

I was about to drag the zipper of Rick's pants down when my hands were suddenly grasped gently again. I looked at Rick, to see him smiling at me. He didn't say a word. He merely released me once he was sure I wouldn't resume my previous actions and his hands went to the hem of my shirt, tugging on it.

I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat and mechanically lifted my arms, letting Rick get rid of my shirt. When I felt the weight of his gaze travel over my scarred chest, I lowered my eyes in shame. I couldn't bear to see Rick's gaze, for fear of what I'd read in it. Everyone who saw my scarred body looked at it in disgust. It was the living proof of how damaged and used I was, how undeserving of Rick's love and attention I was.

My courage faded away in a second. I had no other wish than to run away right now. I didn't know if Rick sensed it, or if he acted only on impulse, but the next second, I felt Rick's arms wrap tightly around me and I was pressed against him. Rick buried his face into my neck and merely held me close.

That gesture meant more than a thousand words could. Rick was silently telling me he accepted and loved me no matter how scarred I was. It meant he would protect me from further harm. It meant so many things and I found myself moved beyond belief. I buried my face into Rick's neck too and returned his embrace tightly, telling him how grateful and relieved I was. I felt him shake against me, but I couldn't tell from what.

I was just glad to know he cared enough to share my pain.

I didn't know how much time we stayed like that, lost in each other's embrace. When Rick finally released me, he lied me down on the cot and his body carefully covered mine. We stared silently at each other and I knew Rick was asking me for permission, was asking me to let him into the depths of my soul, my body. My answer was to smile shakily at him and wrapping my arms around his neck, bringing him closer to share a tender kiss.

When we broke the contact of our lips and Rick lowered his mouth to taste my skin, I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to the sensations and emotions that swept over me like a tornado. Each trail of lips and tongue against my marred and scarred skin was like a healing fire; it hurt me so much I wanted to scream and cry, but at the same time, it soothed me and cleaned me in a way that made me want to sob with relief and completion.

It was too much to take in, and I shook with the overload of sensations. Still, Rick kept on going, kissing each mark speaking of violence and abuse, healing just a little bit the wounds that never truly closed.

The memories flooded me once more; the memories of all the times my old man carved my skin with a knife, all the times he beat me with his fists or any object that fell under his hands, all the times he whipped me with his belt and watched me sob in agony... all of them flooded me and faded a little under Rick's caring attentions. By the time he finished tracing every last scar he could find, I was brought down to a shuddering mess under him.

Rick went up again and gave me a sweet, caring kiss.

"Beautiful..." he whispered against my lips.

I gasped in both surprise and protest. How could Rick think that of me? I was ugly, marred, scarred... he couldn't really think that. But when I looked into Rick's eyes, and saw the affection and _adoration_, the sweet caring there, I knew he wasn't lying. He really thought what he said.

Affection bloomed into my own chest and curled tightly there. That man lying above me was something else. He was able to heal wounds that had torn me apart for more than two decades. He was my savior, the one I'd been waiting for all of my life.

I brought Rick close to me and hid my face in his hair to hide the fact I was dangerously close to tears. Rick resumed his caresses, and wherever his fingers and lips touched, I felt cleaner and cleaner.

I was coming to life under his touches and my skin burned in a cleansing fire. Desire pooled low into my gut, and I wished to be closer to Rick, always closer, until he'd be crawling under my skin and until we couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. I wanted everything from that man, I wanted to feel his touch burn me to my core and I wanted to do the same to Rick.

My hands grew restless as I caressed Rick back. I ran my shaking fingers everywhere my hands could reach. The room was filled with our soft sighs and moans of pleasure. I never felt such pleasure before and I drowned in it, reveled in the way Rick worshiped my body.

I was so delirious with pleasure that I barely noticed it when we got rid of the rest of our garments. We were too lost in a frenzied passion, a passionate dance where all I could think about was _more, more, more_... Rick was as far gone as I was. His lips were frantic against my sensitive neck, mouthing words of appreciation mixed with a mantra of _mine_ against my feverish skin.

I could barely breathe now under the onslaught of feelings taking over me. It was too much, yet not enough at the same time. I wanted more, and I surprised myself when I urged Rick on by whispering heated words into the air thick with our passion.

"Rick... want you..."

My efforts were rewarded by a strangled groan coming from Rick. I dragged him up until I could feel his lips on mine again. I couldn't get enough of Rick and it should have scared me, but I was anything but scared right now. I had no reason to fear this for I was with Rick and he'd never hurt me. He was showing me he cared with tender, yet fiery touches and caring words, leaving me craving for more and more.

I tensed only for a split second when Rick's fingers closed around my engorged cock. It was an instinctual reaction, but I fought it off and relaxed again, returning the favor. We moved our hands in tandem, pleasuring the other in slow, sensual movements. Rick eagerly drank my soft moans of pleasure and muted his own against my lips. I sank my nails in his shoulder to anchor myself to reality. I couldn't stop myself from gasping Rick's name into the air when his lips released mine.

Rick's lips were replaced by his fingers, pressing against my lips gently. Understanding the silent request, I opened my lips and took his fingers inside, coating them with my saliva. My heart started beating faster in my chest until I thought it would jump out of it. Anxiety filled me again when Rick took back his fingers and his hand traveled down my body. I parted my legs wider on instinct and my breathing grew harsh in apprehension.

Rick sensed my sudden nervous mood. He sought my gaze and held it when his wet fingers brushed against my entrance.

"We can stop if you want, Daryl. It's your call," he whispered breathlessly against my lips and my heart picked up its pace.

I was moved that Rick cared enough to want to stop everything if I decided to, even if it would leave him sexually frustrated like never before. But I made my choice and I'd stick by it. I wrapped my arms tightly around his shoulders and pushed my ass down onto his fingers, silently giving him my answer.

I closed my eyes and buried my face in Rick's neck when I felt his first finger breach me. I breathed deeply to calm my nerves while Rick began to gently and slowly prepare me for what was to come. It was okay... it was Rick doing this to me, it was Rick who was holding me in his arms... I kept telling myself that the whole time it took for Rick to stretch me until I could accommodate him better. I released a shaky breath when he withdrew his fingers.

Rick sought my gaze again and I knew he was searching for confirmation again. He was really considerate of me and I wished I could find the words to tell him how moved I was by that. Unfortunately, I was a man of a few words. Instead, I spat into my hand and reached for Rick's member, slicking it up before grabbing it firmly and guiding it to my prepared hole. I spread my legs wider apart and swallowed nervously as I looked up into Rick's eyes.

He was looking back at me with concern, but when he saw the determination to go through with this shining in my eyes, he complied with my wishes. My arms circled his shoulders tightly again when I felt him take himself in hand and push against my entrance. A second later, he was entering me slowly.

The familiar pain that had been the bane of my existence for so many years came then and my body jerked violently away on instinct, but I held tightly on Rick and bit into his shoulder to muffle my scream of pain. While Rick kept on slowly pushing inside me, I had a moment of panic when the vivid memory of my first time took over me and I almost began struggling against Rick. I remembered I was with him at the last second and forced myself to relax again.

By the time he was fully buried in me, I was panting hard in pain and panic, almost suffocating. My heart was beating like crazy and I had trouble finding my breath. Rick quickly saw the state I was in. He caught my face between his hands and shushed me gently, seeking my gaze and holding it, silently telling me that everything would be okay. He kept on whispering soothing and loving words to me, and I gradually relaxed, letting my body sink boneless against the cot.

While Rick continued his loving attentions, I calmed myself and finally realized fully that Rick was _inside me_. He was there, and it didn't feel shameful, or dirty, nor did it hurt that much anymore. He wasn't moving, giving me time to adjust to him and letting a chance for the pain to lessen. I was grateful for it.

"You okay?" Rick asked me gently, breathlessly, his hands still caressing the sides of my face.

I stayed motionless for a moment, thinking about what Rick had just asked me. And just like that, when I looked up into Rick's loving blue eyes, when I was wrapped into his arms, I knew I was okay. I knew I _would_ be okay. Rick would make it okay somehow. He'd turn the memories of all the abuse I went through into a distant souvenir. I dragged my lover – I had every right to call him that now – down to steal a kiss from his lips. When I released Rick, I smiled weakly at him, feeling tears burn my eyes, unshed.

"Yeah..." I answered shakily, and now all I wanted was for him to move.

My body was burning in yearning for Rick. I needed this now; for Rick to replace all the bad, agonizing memories with new and better ones.

Rick didn't seem convinced by my answer and I growled in slight annoyance. I embraced him tightly and pushed my hips down on him, showing him what I wanted. Rick gave in then. He began to move into me, carefully and slowly. It hurt at first, and I fought against my instinct to get away from Rick. But then, when Rick reached deeper and deeper, he brushed something within me that made me gasp loudly at the pleasure coursing through me and I clung to him tightly.

Rick kept his rhythm slow, but deep, and brushed against that spot again and again, until the pain was completely gone and I was overwhelmed by blinding pleasure.

Rick was whispering loving words into my ear and his hands caressed my body gently, adoringly. While we made love, he held me gently and lovingly, showing me more affection than I ever had in my entire life. My world shattered brutally in a matter of a few minutes.

In that moment when we were joined so intimately and consuming our affection and passion, all the abuse, all the rapes, all the times I'd been shunned and treated like dirt at the hands of my father and all those other men, it all came crashing down around me to be replaced by this sole moment when my existence never had more meaning. The mere strength of it had me gasping loudly and the tears that had been building behind my eyes finally fell freely.

I was crying for the first time in twenty-two years.

A feeling of peace and completion filled me as I realized that right now, in this moment, I was loved and cherished. I had suffered a lot, and even though it'd never go away, now I could replace these memories with better ones. Memories with Rick and Judith, and everyone else. I was alive, loved, and needed. Countless years of suffering were washed away in time with the tears rolling down my cheeks.

Rick saw them, but like so many times before, he seemed to understand me without the need for words. He understood I needed him to hold me, to show me how much he cared for me. So instead of stopping, he kept on slowly rocking into me and gently kissed my tears away as he did so, holding me as close to his heart as he possibly could.

I couldn't explain what I felt when I reached my orgasm, the very first one I ever had. It was too strong to describe with words, but I felt like I was being born again. It was more than just a physical completion. It was charged with so many emotions it left me breathless. I felt secure, protected, loved, and if I had died right then, I'd have died happy.

Rick soon followed me into ecstasy, and instead of making me feel dirty like every time before, his essence filling me made me sigh in contentment and completion. When we were both sated, Rick settled next to me on the cot and gathered me in his arms, caressing my hair while I silently kept on crying against his chest. Yes. I knew I would be okay. I was a mess, and many people would have run away instead of wanting to fix me, but Rick stayed. I knew he'd be there for me and with his help, I'd finally have a chance to heal.

He had given me a purpose in life, a family.

"Thanks..." I whispered, my voice completely wrecked by sex and tears.

I was sure Rick didn't know what I was thanking him for, but he didn't ask any questions. He held me tighter in response and I knew he'd never be going anywhere.

Nobody understands Daryl Dixon. They don't understand how I can find my happiness in such a crazy, mad world, when everything around me is going to hell. Then again, they never did understand me.

Except for Rick, and it's enough for me. It's more than enough.

_**The end**_

* * *

**A/N: **So this is the end!

I want to thank all of you who read and reviewed this story! It's been a pleasure to write for you and it was an awesome experience to write this first Walking Dead story!

If you liked it, stay tuned for another one of my Walking Dead stories, which should be up rather soon!

Take care and thank you again!

Rose


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